Wolf Cub
by Radioactive88
Summary: When Stefan kills Ray Sutton, a child is left behind, a precocious eight-year-old werewolf named Grace. Klaus, in a rare moment of hospitality, takes her under his wing and decides to raise her as a Mikaelson. Antics ensue. And against all odds, Caroline finds that she wants to dance with a different pack of wolves... Klaroline. Season 3 Episode 1 and on.
1. The Big Bad Wolf

**A/N: So, I've had this idea stuck in my head for months, and I had to get it out or it would drive me insane. Hopefully, this idea is enjoyable. The main character, eight-year-old Grace, is a triggered werewolf for reasons that will be explained as the story progresses. It will start off fairly close to canon and then start deviating as the story goes on.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anybody or anything but Grace Sutton. I wish I did, but this is how my life turned out. :)**

 **Now, I'm not sure how much time takes place between the first and second episodes of the third season, but here, it takes place in the same day. Anyway, please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks so much :D.**

 **Update: The first time I published this, I made a bit of a continuity error when I established that Grace, as a werewolf, could bite vampires in their human forms because, at the time, I thought all werewolves could do that. I was wrong, as an incredibly helpful reviewer PM'ed me, and so I tweaked this chapter a tiny bit to drop some hints for a later reveal that Grace is not entirely a normal werewolf.**

 **Anywho, read on! :)**

 **Chapter 1: The Big Bad Wolf**

The day I met Klaus Mikaelson was one of the worst and best days of my life. One of the worst because Stefan Salvatore murdered my father due to a botched hybrid experiment. One of the best because I now had Klaus in my corner, who against all odds, became someone I loved with everything in me.

I'd like to mention something good about him, but there wasn't much to say. Underneath all of his cruelty and darkness lay a shining heart of gold? Hardly. On the surface, he was an asshole, and deep down, he was still an asshole. But the thing about Klaus Mikaelson was that the more time you spent with that asshole, you learned to appreciate the traits you used to loathe. Not that you _stopped_ loathing them. It was an odd dichotomy.

Klaus loved few, but he loved them with every inch of his dead, blackened heart. And that was the best thing about him. He made it damn near impossible to love him back, and yet irresistible. He sucked all the oxygen out of a room while simultaneously shining as the life of the party. When he didn't do something heinous towards you or yours, he was equally impossible not to like.

The problem _was_ that, in all likelihood, he'd do something incredibly horrible and unforgivable to you within a month of knowing him and that was that. But _damn_ his charisma. He could lead a lamb to the slaughter with a grin on his face, dimples displayed, and his victim would be none the wiser.

The day Klaus Mikaelson caused the death of my daddy and took me under his wing permanently changed the course of my life. For the better? I couldn't say. But he did it without regrets, as he did most things. And I learned to see who most others saw as an irredeemable monster as a friend. A mentor. A protector.

A father.

So, lean back, listen up, and let me tell you all about how I was adopted by the most dangerous and ruthless creature in the entire goddamn world, and learned to love him.

* * *

 **Southern Comfort, Tennessee - Late Summer 2010**

My name's Grace Sutton. I'm eight years old and proud of it. My life hadn't been all that easy, but I was still livin' and breathin', and that was more of an achievement than any stupid school award.

Let me tell you something. I was real tough for a kid. Or at least it suited me to think so. But not many other eight-year-olds could say every month, they turned into a monstrous wolf and lived to tell the tale. But _I_ could. One older boy told me that I was lying when I told him, and I tried to kick his teeth in. Daddy made us leave town after that, and made me promise never to mention my wolf heritage to anyone. That was a year ago.

My long, bright golden hair was plaited behind my back into two sloppy braids. Daddy didn't know much about girly things. Not since Mama left, anyhow. He didn't bother trying much. If it didn't have something to do with drinking or Paige's pack, he wasn't interested. But I loved my daddy and he loved me back, and that's all that mattered.

Every morning, I dressed myself and I had an excellent fashion sense. Or, so I thought at the time. Daddy let me wear whatever I pleased because it didn't bother him none, but sometimes he laughed a little behind his palm when he thought I wasn't looking.

Today, I had on my best summer dress, a canary yellow number that drifted down to my knees. The bartender, Red, told me I looked very mature, but I think he was secretly mocking me. I didn't like when people mocked me. I didn't like it at all. If Daddy hadn't been friends with the man, then I might've showed him just how much I disliked it.

Daddy was too focused on chatting away with said bartender halfway down the bar, and I tried my hardest not to glare at the grizzled fat man sitting near me, puffing away on a cigar as I nursed my glass of apple juice. He was blowing smoke in my direction on purpose, chuckling behind his coarse gray beard when it connected with my face.

"Sir," I chirped, remembering my manners. "Can you please stop blowing that smoke in my face?" He only chortled away, blowing a smoke ring at me. It broke into wisps once it met my freckled cheeks, and I bristled. "If you don't stop blowing that smoke in my face, I'll shove that cigar so far up your wrinkly old ass that it'll set your fuckin' mouth on fire." Paige's pack members taught me a whole number of choice phrases and insults. Then I remembered to add, "Have a nice day." Daddy told me to _always_ be polite.

The old fat man's face flushed the color of a ripe plum and he choked on his cigar. "You little _shit_ \- you sound just like my ex-wife." Coming from him, I was fairly sure that was meant to be a grievous insult.

I gave him a pleasant smile. "I wonder why she left you," I remarked cheerfully before returning to my juice, sipping at it as he raged and spluttered besides me. That was a lie, though. I didn't have to wonder at all. I'd seen the man around the bar for months now, and I knew his wife left him because he was a cheating sack of shit, as one of the barmaids put it when she thought I wasn't listening. She also said that she was surprised he could "get it up" with all of his side-whores, considering how much he drank. I wasn't sure what all that meant. I asked Daddy one day, and he smacked me upside the head and told me never to say that again. I was still curious, though.

Just as the man was about to spew something vicious at me, my daddy appeared out of nowhere, standing carefully between us. Something hot and mean raged in his piercing blue eyes, the eyes he passed on to me. "Is there a problem here?" Daddy had a _reputation_ here, so I wasn't so shocked when the man shuffled away with his tail between his legs, growling under his breath like a rabid dog. "Gracie, what'd you say this time?"

As he pressed a large hand down on my shoulder, I peered up at him innocently. "I didn't say nothin', Daddy. He got upset for nothin'." I was about to say that one of his whores must've left him along with his ex-wife, but I decided that wasn't what he wanted to hear.

He fixed me with a stern look. "What did I say about lying?"

I grinned sheepishly, shrugging my guilt away. "Not to do it?"

His hard exterior melted away and he laughed, tugging on one of my braids. He towed me along and lifted me onto a seat next to him, so he could "keep an eye on me." I thought that was a bunch of bullshit, another fun phrase I learned from Paige's pack, but I chose not to say that aloud. Still, I was happy to spend time with him.

That was when a handsome blond man entered the bar. He wasn't a regular, and he didn't look like he was from around here. There was something . . . _sinister_ about him, a word I learned in one of my books the other day. He walked right up to Daddy, and I wrinkled my nose. "Ray? Ray Sutton?"

I didn't recognize his accent, but it assured me that he _definitely_ wasn't from around here. "Who wants to know?" Daddy asked. _This man_ wanted to know, obviously. Daddy was a little dumb sometimes, but I loved him anyway. Sometimes it was a bit frustrating, but he tried his best.

"I've been looking everywhere for you. We started in Florida, Pensacola. I met a young chap there who you used to work with nearly a decade ago before you moved to Memphis, and he directed me to two lovely young women. And they led me here, to you."

I tilted my head to the side, confused. Whoever this man was, he _really_ wanted to see Daddy. I wasn't sure that was a good thing. The man noticed me for the first time, and his plump lips curled up into a smile that didn't quite reach his ocean-blue eyes. Eyes that missed nothing and knew the score. I noticed these things. "Hello, there. What's your name, sweetheart?"

Since he asked so nicely, I opened my mouth to answer, but Daddy grabbed my hand and shook his head. "Don't answer that. I think we'll be going," he informed the man, and I frowned at his rudeness.

Helping me off the stool, Daddy started to hurry to the door, but the blond man stopped us. "Not so fast, mate. You only just got here, now. Your type are very hard to come by."

Our _type_? Lifting me up into his strong, muscular arms, Daddy began to walk the other way, but another man stopped us. He had light brown hair that looked so soft and luscious I wanted to run my fingers through it. He was very handsome, and I blushed into Daddy's shoulder. "I wouldn't do that," he said, his expression strangely empty of any emotion. He shoved Daddy backwards into the bar counter, and I was dropped back onto my feet.

"Run," he whispered, and my heart began to pound in my chest like a hummingbird's wings. Before I could even _think_ of fleeing, the first blond man clamped a hand down on my shoulder, sending shivers down my spine. "Vampires," he accused. "Let my daughter go."

The blond man only seemed to find that funny. "You're swifty swift, Ray! Yes! My friend here is a vampire. He compelled everybody in the bar so don't look to them for any help. I however, I'm something else, a different kind of monster. I've got some vampire, I've got some wolf." He crouched down in front of me then, completely ignoring my daddy. "And what about you, sweetheart? Will you show me more manners than your dear father, hm?"

I dragged my eyes from the blond man to the other, more aggressive one hovering near Daddy. "If you don't hurt my daddy," I said slowly and carefully, meeting his fearsome gaze once more, "then I'll say and do whatever you want."

His eyes lit up like brilliant blue stars. "You're smart!" I jutted out my chin, unable to help myself. "Stefan, she's smart!" The other man only grunted in acknowledgement. "Ray Sutton," he directed towards my daddy, "your daughter exceeds you."

"Don't hurt her," he growled, struggling against the other man's - Stefan's - firm grasp. "Please."

Rising to his feet and laying a lazy hand on my head, he replied, "Oh, I believe your young daughter and I have already struck a deal. Stefan, you handle Ray. Why don't you tell him all about how exciting hybrids are and all about my desire to create more? I think I would prefer to speak with lovely little . . . ?"

"Grace," I breathed. He beamed at my easy compliance, then reached down for my hand, leading me over to the nearest empty booth. Daddy shouted after us, and my thudding heart rose into my throat. As the blond led me away, I didn't see Stefan pull darts out of his pocket.

He sat down, and hesitantly, I crawled into the bench across from him. This was not how I imagined my day unfolding. "Well, little Miss Grace," he kept a smile glued to his lips, although I could see the darkness beneath, "I must say, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Even as a child, I hated small talk with a passion. "You said you're part wolf?" I asked, remembering his statement from before. "How can you only be part wolf? You're a wolf or you're not."

His intense, knowing eyes glimmered with interest. "And what do you know about wolves, little one?"

"I _am_ a wolf," I replied, curling my legs beneath me, chewing on my lip.

He leaned back and clasped his hands together. "You mean you _will_ be a wolf, when you awaken the gene," he countered, and I knitted my eyebrows together. He thought I was stupid, and that I didn't know what I was talking about. I was most certainly not stupid, and I _did_ know what I was talking about.

"No," I drawled, as if _he_ were stupid. His not-so-friendly smile melted away. "My daddy is a wolf, and I'm a wolf. You have to kill someone to aci - actv - acti -"

"Activate," he corrected softly, gesturing for me to continue with a flourish of his hand.

"You have to kill someone to _activate_ the gene. I killed someone, and now I'm a werewolf. I think I would know," I finished dryly, watching his eyebrows raise to mingle with his hairline. He was surprised, _very_ surprised.

"That's not possible."

Well, _obviously_ it was. "I'm sittin' right here, ain't I?"

He released a long whistle. "Hmm . . ." He changed the subject after sporting a briefly contemplative look. "Who did you kill, anyhow?"

"My uncle." When he opened his mouth to likely continue questioning, I said sharply, "But I don't talk about that with strangers."

"My name is Klaus. There, we aren't strangers anymore!" Klaus grinned again, revealing two cute dimples on each side of his face. "You killed a family member. That's not something you get over easily." Was he speaking from experience? "How old were you?"

"Seven."

"Ah, pardon me - how old are you _now_?"

"I turned eight in March," I sighed. "It doesn't matter. Why are you here anyway, Klaus? What do you want with my daddy? He didn't do anything wrong. I would know. I've known him my entire life." I flashed him a cheeky smile, unable to help myself.

He chuckled, low and deep. It was a pleasant sound, I thought. He had a nice laugh. I wouldn't mind him laughing again. "Right you are, sweetheart. Well, let me tell you. I'm a hybrid, which is part vampire, part werewolf, but I'm the only one of my kind. I want to turn others to be like me. They have to be werewolves, and your father is the first one I've found in months. It was quite a hassle, really."

I sliced through his rambling words to the true meaning in seconds. "You're lonely," I concluded, tilting my head to one side. "You want to make others like you so you're not alone anymore."

Any traces of amusement disappeared into thin air. "That is none of your business, child," he all but growled - the sound a deep, rumbling noise from his chest.

"You came after my daddy," I said calmly, drumming my fingertips over the sticky tabletop. "You made it my business, _grown-up_."

Klaus clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth, which is something Daddy did when he was trying to restrain his temper. He watched me closely. "You're far too clever for your own good. Has anyone ever told you that?"

I smirked with all my eight-year-old charm. "Yes."

Klaus stared at me for a long moment, then burst out into laughter - a loud, contagious laughter that sounded much freer and wilder than before. "I like you, sweetheart. You should wear that as a badge of honor. I do not like many people, you know."

"I wish I could say the same," I snipped, merely for the sake of being a brat, but he only laughed again.

"You're a cute little thing, aren't you?"

I gave him a serene, smug little smile. "I know." Of course I knew, I used it to my advantage to get whatever I wanted. My daddy taught me most things in life, but my mama taught me how to manipulate.

"You transform every month," he mused, appraising me once more. "It's a truly agonizing process. I cannot imagine a little thing such as yourself would be able to handle it. Many adult werewolves cave under the consistency of such pain every month, yet _you_ deal with it." I simply nodded. There wasn't much else I could do about it. I had to deal with it, or die. There was no other option, and I liked living. "How extraordinary."

I only shrugged. "It's what I haveta do." A familiar shout of pain sounded behind me, and I was out of the booth in a second. Daddy was chained to the bar wall, with a _dart_ in his body, thrown by Stefan. "Daddy, _no_!" I barreled into Stefan's side, punching him as hard as I could in the stomach. It hurt me more than it hurt him, and I cradled my fist to my chest. "Leave him alone!" I shouted anyway.

Stefan hauled me up underneath my arms to his height, a bemused expression in place, and I used that opportunity to kick him in the chest. He grunted. "Klaus," he complained, "she's getting in the way of my _interrogation_."

Then a thought sprung to my mind; Daddy told me once about how werewolf venom was deadly to vampires. I'd never seen it in person, but there was only one way to find out. Heat traveled behind my eyes, and if I had a mirror in front of me, I knew my irises would be painted amber. "Leave him alone," I snarled, before reaching down and sinking my baby teeth into his wrist. He shouted out in a combination of surprise and pain, and dropped me.

Klaus caught me before I hit the floor, and Stefan clutched his wrist in agony. I smiled at his extreme reaction. I hoped he died. Breaking free of Klaus's loose hold, I ran straight for my daddy, gasping at his paleness. "She's a full-blooded, activated werewolf," Klaus remarked to Stefan's dismay. "That rather nasty-looking bite is fatal. Tough luck, mate."

I didn't notice at the time the way Klaus looked at me then, with poorly disguised shock and bewilderment that he played off for Stefan's sake - he didn't want to seem like he didn't know something, probably. Werewolves couldn't bite vampires in their human form; they could only activate their venom on the full moon. And I had no idea. I wouldn't know until the world came crashing around me a little while later.

I wasn't a normal werewolf.

A woman went to talk to Klaus, yammering on about someone named _Damon_ , but I didn't care. I had to save my daddy, if it was the last thing I did. Gingerly, I yanked the dart out of his arm, and he groaned in a mixture of relief and discomfort. "I've got you, Daddy," I murmured as he slumped down into my waiting arms, my legs buckling under the newfound weight. Luckily, he adjusted himself, and wrapped his arms around me in a tight embrace.

"My brother still on our trail?" I heard Stefan ask behind me, his voice tight with hurt. I glanced over my shoulder as he checked his wrist over. Something was off, and I frowned. He didn't look like somebody preparing for death - instead, he looked inconvenienced at best.

"He's getting closer, I'm gonna have to deal with that," Klaus replied.

Stefan grabbed his arm, suddenly frantic. "No, no, no! Let me handle it!"

"Why should I let you leave?" he huffed in response.

"'Cause you know I'll come back. The little girl _bit_ me." He held up his mangled appendage. "I need your blood, and you saved my brother's life; I'm in your service. Either way, I'll come back, Klaus."

Klaus seemed to accept that as an answer. "Ah, you sound so tedious and indentured. Aren't you even having the least bit of fun?" He gestured to Daddy with a wide grin, and I curled up my lip at him, baring my teeth. "I'll give you my blood once you deal with that pesky brother of yours."

"I'll make sure that my brother doesn't bother us anymore." Stefan walked off, leaving Klaus alone with us. Daddy shielded me protectively, his muscular arms acting as barriers between Klaus and I.

Klaus only chuckled. "Oh, Ray." He tossed my daddy to the side like he weighed nothing and lifted me back into his iron grip. "You think your fatherly bravado can stop me? I have a good idea. A great idea, really. You tell me where your pack is," his hand found its way around my neck, and a shiver ran up my spine, "or your daughter _dies_." His hand tightened.

I attempted to bite him too, but that only made Klaus laugh harder. "Oh, sweetheart, I'm a hybrid, remember? That won't work on me."

The hope faded from Daddy's fierce blue eyes and he nodded in defeat. I would've protested, but frankly, I wanted to live and I didn't care all that much about Paige's pack in comparison. It was kill or be killed, and I didn't plan on dying. Daddy told Klaus the location, and his grip relaxed around my throat. He set me back on my feet, smiling away. "Excellent."

Daddy placed his hands on my shoulders. "Gracie, I want you to go sit in the farthest booth and face the wall. Ask a waiter for a piece of paper, and draw somethin' nice for me. Can you do that for me? Do it for me, baby."

I wrinkled my nose, and shook my head. "No, I'm staying."

Steel flashed across his blue eyes and I knew I was in for it. "Sit in the farthest booth and face the wall, or the second we get home, I'll use my belt on you. Got it?" Scowling at the threat and flood of embarrassment, heat rising to my face, I turned away. "And don't listen, either. If I find out you listened then I'll do it every night this week before bedtime. Now _go_."

I _knew_ Daddy was only saying that for my safety and well-being, but still, I didn't appreciate it too much. Klaus watched me go with an arched eyebrow, and loosed a mocking chuckle. "I didn't know you had it in you, Ray. How harsh of you."

"Shut up."

"You're a real man, Ray."

I screwed up my face in anger as Klaus continued to tease him mercilessly, wanting to punch him in the throat until he couldn't breathe. I reached the farthest booth, and felt like setting it on fire for good measure. The problem was, I didn't have any matches. Maybe I could ask the old fat man for a lighter. I was about to look around for him, when I remembered Daddy's threat, grinding my teeth together.

The bar didn't have any paper or pencils hanging around, so much for drawing a picture. Reading and drawing were my two favorite pastimes, and I didn't have means for either.

I sat still for as long as I dared, staring hard at the back wall, only for my self-preservation. Daddy was southern through and through, and he knew how to smack like his life depended on it. Especially factoring in how often I found myself in trouble and my advanced werewolf healing. Still, it sounded like Klaus was hurting him, and it took everything in me to tune them out.

Furiously, I swung my legs back and forth, reveling in the obnoxious sound my heels made as they connected with the wood of the bench. I wanted to break something. No, I wanted to break _everything_ , and then some.

I wrenched napkin after napkin from the dispenser, then banged it onto the tabletop, connecting it with the wood over and over until it dented and collapsed in on itself. When that became boring, I tossed it to the side, and shattered both the salt and pepper shakers into a million pieces, the white and brown powder spreading across the surface.

A pair of hands shot out of nowhere, pinning my wrists together. Klaus's menacing mug hovered over me. "Stop it. You're making a scene, and it's irksome. You're lucky all of the patrons are compelled to ignore any ruckus." I stuck out my tongue at him, and his eyes flashed amber. "That's it." He tossed me over his shoulder in one fluid motion, and the breath escaped my lungs as my stomach pressed against his shoulder. "You can come down when you stop acting like you were born in a barn."

I slammed my fists into his back repeatedly, but he didn't even flinch. Stefan was back, and drinking something from a bottle that made the wound on his wrist heal - Klaus's blood, if I remembered right.

But that wasn't what mattered. A body was twisted across the pool table, and he looked suspiciously like - "Daddy!"

* * *

It took a long time for Klaus to reassure me that my daddy was only _temporarily_ dead, and he would awaken as a hybrid who was no longer tied to the moon. He'd be stronger, faster, _better._ Of course, I asked him if I could be a hybrid too, since that sounded like a good deal, but he only laughed and told me I was too young.

I called him a liar, and he smacked me upside the head hard enough for me to almost fall forward into the dirt. That was where we were, a huge mound of dirt that some affectionately called a mountain. Stefan snapped at him for hitting me, even though I almost killed him, which was nice enough.

Stefan was carrying my currently dead daddy across his shoulder, and I yelled at him every time his head clipped against a tree branch. This might have been the weirdest situation I had ever been a part of.

"You okay?" Klaus asked Stefan, a smirk playing at his lips. "Is Ray getting heavy?" I gnawed on my lip hard, so I wouldn't say something that would make Klaus hit me again. My daddy's dead body wasn't something to laugh over, and if I could push Klaus off the nearest cliff, I would. Another dead body wouldn't make much of a difference, right?

"I'm fine," Stefan bit back as I stomped between the two of them dramatically. Ever so occasionally, when I tripped over a tree root or an ant hill, he'd readjust me by the shoulders. I'd be nice to him a full sixty seconds before shouting at him for mishandling my dead daddy again.

"You sure about that? You know, we've been walking for quite some time now. If you need some water or a little sit-down . . ." I rolled my eyes to the cloudless blue sky.

"You know, I get that we're, uh . . . we're stuck together, but if we could maybe just skip the chitchat, it'd be great."

"That means shut up, Klaus," I grumbled for Stefan's sake, since currently, I liked him a _little better_ than Klaus. Klaus shot me a nasty glower, and stuck out the tip of his foot to trip me. I face-planted into the dirt, groaning. The pain was immediate and fiery.

"Whoops, sorry, sweetheart - that was an accident," he apologized, snickering. I spat out a mouthful of soil, and Stefan glared daggers at Klaus.

"She's, like, six," he complained. "You can't do that. That's not okay. I have her father's dead body draped over my shoulders, you don't need to torture her." Kneeling to the ground, he nudged up my chin to look me in the face, as unshed tears swam in my eyes. "Are you all right, kiddo?"

"She's eight, Stefan, haven't you been paying attention?" Klaus was still amused - at least until the first tear trickled down my face. I hastily wiped it away, burying my face in the crook of my elbow. "Lighten up, sweetheart, it was a joke." I didn't budge an inch, and he breathed a sharp sigh. "Oh, bother . . ." He jerked me up by my elbow, helping me to my feet, and I ripped my arm free as the tears continued to stain my cheeks. It wasn't the fact that he tripped me - well, it _was_ , but I didn't know if my daddy would come back to life and if he did, how he would be. What if he hurt me what if he _wanted_ to hurt me what if he hated me what if he left me what if what if what if what if -

My eight-year-old pride eating away at me, I hid my face away in my hands. I shrieked as arms scooped me up and I was lifted up, air whooshing around me. When my butt connected with hard muscle, I peeled open my eyes - Klaus had placed me on his shoulders. His mane of dark blond hair tickled my bare legs. "Better, sweetheart?"

Giggling, I flicked him on the skull as hard as I could. "Better!" He chuckled loudly himself, and the vibrations shook my entire body. Even Stefan cracked a smile. Clinging onto his head to balance myself, I found myself much more content than before. The two men continued walking, and I watched happily from my high perch.

My smile melted away once we stumbled upon Paige's pack. Stefan stepped in first, setting Daddy gently on the ground, probably for fear of my shrill voice attacking his ears again.

"Ray!" a woman, Paige herself, yelled. "Oh my God. What's going on? Who are you?"

Klaus strolled in after, his hands firmly locked onto my knees in what was probably a combination of keeping me steady and a threat to the pack. "The important question is who am _I_. Please forgive the intrusion. My name is Klaus."

Paige's eyes widened to the size of moons. "You're the hybrid." Then, her eyes wandered up to me and she gasped. " _Grace_? Oh my God, has he hurt you, Gracie?"

Klaus, ignoring the second part of her statement, smiled as wide as the Cheshire Cat. "You've heard of me, fantastic. Oh, and I haven't hurt her. But that could very well change at the drop of a hat, so . . . I would listen to me."

* * *

After Klaus sat down with Stefan, he positioned me onto his lap with a lazy hand on my skinny shoulder, ready to lop my head off if the pack made one wrong move. They all cared about me enough to stand still as statues, all eyes pinned to me. I stared down at Klaus's denim-covered knees, waiting for my daddy to wake up.

"It's fascinating, actually . . . ," Klaus remarked. "A werewolf who isn't beholden to the moon, a vampire who doesn't burn in the sun. A true hybrid."

Daddy awoke with a gasp, his chest jolting upward, and I was off Klaus's lap in a fraction of a second. "Daddy!" I skidded to his side, ignoring the sting that arose in my knees as they scraped against the dirt. I pounced on him, winding my arms around him, but he shoved me off. Hurt blossomed inside my chest as I collapsed onto my back with a soft thud.

"Excellent timing, Ray," Klaus boomed from somewhere behind me. "Very dramatic."

"What's happening to me?" Daddy demanded, and I fumbled for his hand. He didn't push me away this time. I tucked myself under his arm and squeezed him as if my life depended on it. Finally, his arm snaked around me, too. He needed me as much as I needed him. I hadn't seen him so upset since I killed my uncle Luke, and Mama hurt me back.

I ignored the conversation between Klaus, Stefan, and the others, too focused on the fact that my daddy was _alive_ \- he was warm, breathing, _here_. I buried my face in his shirt, breathing in his familiar scent, relieved beyond words. Daddy was here, and I was safe now. He would protect me.

A man collapsed onto the ground in front of us, his forearm oozing crimson. Derek, Paige's boyfriend. He sometimes sang to me and taught me a few chords on his guitar. I clutched onto Daddy's shirt, half-searching for assurance and half-attempting to shield _him_ from the gruesome sight. "If you don't drink it, Ray, I will," Stefan warned. "Problem is, I don't know how to stop."

"Drink, Daddy, you'll feel better," I murmured up to him, and his deep blue eyes searched me closely. "You'll be a hybrid. You won't turn into a wolf no more, not if you don't wanta."

While Klaus manhandled Paige, Daddy dove for the arm, sinking his new fangs into the wound and suckling from it like a baby from a teat. I observed in quiet curiosity. If it would make him better, then I had no problems.

Klaus murdered Paige, and she dropped like a sack of bricks. "Okay, who's next?" he growled, his eyes glimmering amber and his fangs poking out from his gums.

Daddy covered my eyes with one sweaty, clammy palm as Klaus and Stefan killed everybody one by one. But I still heard them all, screaming until the end. At least they would come back to life stronger. Daddy was trembling against me, and I realized the tight embrace he'd pulled me into was as much for me as it was for him. "They're dead. They're all dead," he moaned into the crown of my head, his hot breath tickling my hair.

"Ah, he's through his transition. He should be feeling better soon." That was Klaus, somewhere across the campsite. Relief poured into me, deep into my very bones. As long as Daddy would be okay, then so would I.

"You're gonna be okay," I whispered into his shirt and his breath hitched.

"I hope so," he whispered back.

"So this is your master plan?" Stefan asked. "Build an army of hybrid slaves?"

My forehead creased at the thought of it. _Slave?_ I wanted Daddy to be _better_ than he was, not a _slave_. "No, not slaves," Klaus assured. "Soldiers, comrades." That was better than slaves, I supposed.

"For what war, might I ask?"

"Oh, you don't arm yourself after war has been declared, Stefan. You build your army so big that no one dares pick a fight." Daddy must've heard them as well as I did, because his breathing grew strained and ragged. Or at least that's what I _thought_ , but I'd never been so wrong. He was hurting, and I had no idea.

"What makes you so sure that they'll be loyal?" Stefan pointed out. He didn't know my daddy, he didn't know how loyal he was. My daddy would die for me in a heartbeat. He wouldn't even blink an eye. He told me so himself.

"Well, it's not difficult to be loyal when you're on the winning team. That's something you'll learn once you shake that horribly depressive chip off your shoulder."

Stefan laughed, but I didn't see what was so funny about it. Tremors shook through Daddy's entire body, and I was starting to worry again. It couldn't be that he was scared of them - Daddy wasn't scared of anything or anybody.

Something dripped onto the top of my head, and I pulled away, frowning. I didn't get to hear Stefan's reply as I choked on my own spit. Small trails of blood were trickling from Daddy's eyes. No, no, _no_ \- Klaus said he'd be better! Why wasn't he better?! "Daddy?" I whispered hoarsely, but it was as if he couldn't hear me. He was _hurting_. I grabbed his arm and shook him. "Daddy, I'm scared," I whimpered as blood continued to leak like a loose faucet from his eyes.

Klaus sat next to the both of us, and looked over Daddy's face. My heart thudded so fast in my chest I thought it might explode. It was like a jackhammer. "Klaus," I tugged on his black T-shirt, and he glanced down at me. "What's happening to him?"

He pursed his plump, pink lips. "Something's wrong." Terrified, I frantically brushed away the blood on Daddy's face, the red liquid smearing all over my palms. If I could wipe it away, then maybe it would be okay. If it stopped, then maybe it didn't exist in the first place.

"That shouldn't be happening, should it?" Stefan asked somewhere behind us. He sounded like he couldn't care in the slightest, and I wanted to punch his eyeballs into his skull.

"Well, obviously," Klaus snapped back. Tears swam across my vision and I sniffled pathetically, causing Klaus to give me a long, unreadable look. I leaned into Daddy once more, and squeezed my eyes shut, pretending that none of this was happening. He was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane.

"You said it was gonna feel better," he groaned, and I clutched onto him tighter. "Why doesn't it feel better?" I couldn't hold them back any more and tears spilled down my cheeks. He had to be okay. He _had_ to. He was all I had, and I was all he had.

"Some master race," Stefan quipped, and I was seconds away from biting him again, but this time, I wanted him to die.

"Lose the attitude," Klaus growled back as I fought the sobs racking my skinny form.

Paige woke up, gasping like Daddy had, and Klaus called to the only human of the pack, "Derek, come feed your girlfriend." He obeyed the short command easily.

Daddy snarled against me, and pushed me off him - _hard_. I was thrown backwards, my head smacking against the nearest rock, and pain shot like a bullet through my skull. Black spots danced before my eyes and he left me there. He left me bleeding into the dirt as I sobbed, terrified for my life.

"Go get him," Klaus ordered Stefan and kneeled down over me, pressing his hand against my temple, removing it only for blood to be caking his fingers. Commotion sounded all around me, but I couldn't see it. Klaus looked to be deep in thought and he tutted. "Oh, that looks bad, sweetheart. I would give you my blood, but on the off chance you're killed somehow, child vampires are quite unfortunate creatures - you'll heal quickly on your own." He lifted me back onto the rock, and everything spun around me. He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear as I sniffled, and I found myself leaning into his touch.

Stefan appeared back into my faulty vision - _without my daddy._ My throat closed up. "Where did he go?" Klaus demanded, speaking for me. I would've echoed him but I didn't think I was capable of talking.

Stefan peered down at me for a quick second before saying, "He, uh . . . got away. Forget him. Let's go." Panic swelled up in my chest like a balloon and I reached for Klaus's hand, tugging on it, whimpering and shaking my head for the lack of an ability to verbally protest.

"I agree with the spontaneously mute little girl," Klaus said, then caught a glance of Stefan's arm. I almost gasped; my daddy _bit_ him. Damn it, he beat me to it. "We must find him. A fatal werewolf bite. Ouch. Two in one afternoon. Double ouch. It's just not your day, mate."

"Yeah," Stefan grumbled. "I'm gonna need your blood to heal me."

"Well, I tell you what. You find Ray, and then I'll heal you." A slow smile spread across my face and Klaus noticed, patting me on the head and chuckling lightly.

"Can't be serious."

"You better hurry, because that bite looks nasty." Klaus and I moved back into the campsite, and this time, I _did_ gasp. Everyone was awake, and blood was dripping down all of their faces. This had gone horribly, horribly wrong . . .

The sun slowly set below the horizon, orange and pink streaming across the sky like broad paint strokes, until night finally settled. The entire time I'd sat on the rock, petrified, waiting for my daddy to come home safe. Klaus hadn't been much help. In fact, he'd just finished killing the only human in the campsite. He'd suggested I look away, but I watched the light leave his eyes as Klaus tore into his throat, numb to it all.

Paige stepped in front of him, heartbroken that her boyfriend was now a bloody corpse on the dirt. "Careful, love. There's only one Alpha here." And to think, it had been my daddy until today. No more.

Everyone stumbled around the camp, their eyes still bleeding without fail. I knew in my heart that they were going to die, and that terrified me. If they died, then how was Daddy any different? He had to be. He _had_ to be different.

But his eyes were bleeding, too . . .

"Bloody hell," Klaus murmured.

He killed most of them. Some died on their own, their blood emptying out into the dirt. He made me close my eyes, but I heard it all, only able to hope beyond hope that my daddy would make it home.

* * *

My heart stopped as Stefan walked into the campsite.

". . . D-Daddy?" His limp form rested on Stefan's shoulders, unmoving. He came home all right, but not the way I wanted. The noise that erupted from my throat was not human. Stefan's green eyes widened at the sight of me, and his lips parted open, wordless. My hands began to tremble, and tears welled up in my eyes. _No, no, no, please, no, Daddy, don't leave me . . ._

I hadn't realized that I said that all out loud until Stefan averted his eyes, unable to look at me. He was dead - _again_. But this time, I knew, I just _knew_ that he wasn't coming back.

I collapsed into a fit of sobs and pleas, pounding my little fists against the dirt and piles of moss before me. He was dead, he was dead, dead, dead -

Daddy was dead, and now I had nobody.

There was a series of strangled shrieks echoing through the campsite, and with a start, I realized it was coming from me. I beat my fists against the earth until blood trickled down my pale fingers, and kept beating them for good measure.

A hand reached forward and pinned my wrists together, and I was lifted up by a pair of arms. Distantly, I realized it was Klaus, but my head was too muddled to truly connect the dots. I continued to wail at the top of my lungs, punching and kicking and biting and spitting with everything in me. He did not let go.

"I hate you!" I shrieked, clawing at his face, watching the jagged marks heal before my very eyes in dismay. "I hate you, you killed my daddy, I hate you, I hate you, I _hate you_!" It didn't sound too tough through my sobs, but I meant it. I wished he had never walked through the Southern Comfort that afternoon. If he hadn't, my daddy would still be alive.

Soon enough, all the fight seeped from my bones, and I lowered my head on Klaus's shoulder, feeling as empty as a bottomless chasm. "I did everything I was told," he hissed, his voice trembling, as if he was fighting the urge to scream. "I should be able to turn them. I broke the curse. I killed a werewolf. I killed a vampire. I killed the doppelgänger."

 _I killed, I killed, I killed . . ._ He sounded like a broken record to my ears. But I didn't care anymore. I didn't care about anything. How could I? The only person in my world I loved, the person I loved more than life itself, was dead and I was alone.

Soon enough, Klaus would probably leave me with the dead werewolves to die myself, and that would be that. And I'd let him. In fact, I _hoped_ he did. Not hoped, really. I didn't have any hope left. But I wanted him to. I had no reason to live any more. I'd be better off dead.

"You look like hell." The vibrations of his voice sent tremors through my entire body, but I didn't budge an inch.

Stefan was staring at me, I could tell - his intent gaze burned holes into my vulnerable back, but I didn't bother to turn around, content with hiding my face in Klaus's shoulder. They were _both_ responsible for killing my daddy.

"Last I checked, I'm dying . . . and you don't want to heal me." There was a long pause before he continued, "I had to take him out." I sucked in a harsh breath once I realized who he was talking about. "I didn't have a choice. I failed you. I'm sorry. Do what you have to do."

A new wave of energy flooding through me, I glared daggers at Stefan, trying to convey every ounce of my hatred through one look. "There's _always_ a choice. You chose wrong."

There was a long stretch of silence. Stefan could only meet my heated gaze for so long before looking away. Klaus reached for an empty bottle of beer, and drained his blood into it after biting into his hand, then gave it to Stefan. "Bottoms up. We're leaving. It appears you're the only comrade I have left." He shifted his full attention to me. "Do you have a mother I can drop you off with, sweetheart?" Frowning, I shook my head, and he sighed. "Grandparents?" Another head shake. "Uncles, aunts?"

"I killed my only uncle," I said darkly, and he nodded in remembrance, beginning to leave the campsite with me still tucked safely in his arms. "Where are you taking me?"

"You have nobody left," he pointed out, eyeing me thoughtfully. "Considering we _are_ responsible for the death of your only remaining family member, bringing you along is the least I could do." Stefan's head snapped up in surprise and I scowled so hard my face was like to fall right off. "Hmm, yes. I suppose I have room for another comrade - albeit a much tinier one."

Wait, he was taking me _with_ him? "I don't want to go anywhere with you." I inserted venom into every syllable until my voice was dripping with pure hate.

His ocean-blue eyes darkened a considerable amount. "Too bad, sweetheart, you don't have a say in the matter. You have nobody left. I understand the feeling. You're coming with me."

That was the day that I lost a daddy, but gained a narcissistic, murderous, thousand-year old hybrid who claimed me to be his.

And there was nobody to stop him. But after a while, I wouldn't want them to. I was his, but he was also mine.

 **A/N: So, what'd you guys think? Like it, love it, hate it? Let me know, I adore feedback! :D**


	2. Adjustment Period

**A/N: Holy shi - ittake mushrooms. The response I got for this was** ** _incredible_** **. I went to go see "Spiderman: Homecoming" with my mom (awesome movie by the way, highly recommend) and when I got out, my email was blowing up. A huge thanks to all those who have been reading, favoriting, and following this story and a special thanks to lilycantu, Brookeworm3, and a Guest for being my first reviewers! You guys are nothing short of spectacular.**

 **I had to update as soon as possible due to the response. This chapter takes place about three days after the last one, and Grace has been dealing with the astronomical blow of losing a father. I myself lost my dad unexpectedly when I was twelve (I'm sixteen now), so a lot of the emotions I wrote in this come from a personal place, and thus I hope it comes across realistically.**

 **Also, Grace meets Rebekah this chapter, yay! Anyway, enough of my rambling, please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks again! :D**

 **Chapter 2: Adjustment Period**

I didn't talk after my daddy died, and I didn't cry either. I think I forgot how to. All I could do was sit there in the back seat, quiet as a mouse, an empty shell of a once lively little girl.

To their credit, both Klaus and Stefan made sure to glance back at me every once in a while, and ask how I was holding up. That didn't merit much of an answer, in my opinion, so I lived in my stony silence. It was driving Klaus up a wall.

"Are you hungry?" he asked on the third day of our road trip. Both vampires had forgotten about that basic human need, despite us staying in a motel the first night. But I wasn't hungry, not one bit. It was like my stomach stopped working. My throat was as parched and dry as a desert, but I didn't dare tell him. I was only lucky the motel had a bathroom, and I could drink out of the sink faucet.

I shook my head, and he sucked in an irritated breath. Not bothering to give him any sort of reaction, I continued to stare blankly out the window. "When was the last time you ate?" I only shrugged. A few days ago? Everything was jumbled together in my head. "You know, I liked you a lot better when you spoke."

Mumbling to himself about how "difficult" I was turning out to be, he veered sharply into the nearest parking lot, heading to some fast food place or another. The ghost of a smile tweaked up the corners of my lips. Terrifying, evil, hybrid Klaus Mikaelson pulling into a McDonald's drive-through. It didn't get much better than that. "What do you want?" he asked impatiently, slamming his foot onto the brakes before the sign.

I didn't answer, squeezing my eyes shut and pretending I was somewhere far, far away. He rapped his fist against the dashboard, but I still didn't open my eyes. A bland voice echoed through the drive through intercom, and Klaus snapped a short response, forcing him to wait. "She's tiny. How much does she have to eat, anyway?"

Clearly, he had been addressing Stefan. "How should I know?"

A low growl rumbled inside of his chest, probably scaring the poor drive-through attendant half to death. "You're younger than me."

"Yeah, you never let me forget it. So what?"

I didn't need to look to know Klaus was rolling his eyes. "You were a child a much shorter time ago than I was. How much did you eat when you were that age?"

A soft thud sounded as Stefan continuously tapped his head against the headrest, as impatient as Klaus. "Gee, I don't know, Klaus - we didn't exactly have a McDonald's in the eighteen hundreds. We were a little more preoccupied with the Civil War and not dying from tuberculosis."

If Stefan was that old, then how old was _Klaus_? I reopened my eyes, unable to hold back my curiosity. As much as I loathed the two of them, they _were_ a bit entertaining.

". . . Do shut up, mate." Klaus turned his attention back to the drive-through attendant. "Er, one of those child meals should be suitable."

"Um, t-there are several of those, sir. Could you be more specific, please?"

Klaus snarled, and there was an audible squawk of fear on the other end. "Do I sound like I bloody care? Pick one, and let that be the end of it. I'll pay for whatever you choose." Klaus did not wait for a response before rolling up to the window. The obviously frightened teenager recited the order he chose, a Happy Meal. It didn't make any difference to me. Klaus practically chewed the boy's face off as he tossed cash in his general direction, snatching the bag away from him. "Thank you." It came out very sarcastic, as I was sure he meant it to.

He threw it all back at me, and my stomach rumbled furiously as he drove back onto the main road. Saliva swam over my tongue. I saw him smirk in the rearview mirror. "I knew you were hungry." Shrugging again, I dug through the bag and pulled out my kids' meal, stuffing fry after fry and nugget after nugget into my mouth, only stopping to gulp down mouthfuls of my soda. "Bloody hell, sweetheart, it's not going anywhere. Pace yourself before you choke and die and I have to make another stop."

Glaring up at him, I continued to shove the food into my cheeks like a chipmunk would acorns, barely making time to chew it, let alone swallow it. All in all, I polished off the food in three minutes flat, and satisfied myself with the cheap plastic toy hidden at the bottom of the bag. It was a Marvel toy, a tiny Wolverine figurine, dressed just like the character in the comics.

My heart ached at the thought of all my toys and belongings scattered all around my old bedroom. Stefan killed the women we lived with sometimes (we mostly lived on the road), another reason to hate him. Sure, I wasn't awfully fond of them, but they didn't deserve to die.

I only had the clothes on my back, since Klaus refused to travel back to Memphis. The thought brought tears to my eyes, but I refused to let them spill over. My old life was gone now; Klaus told me as much. There was no use crying over it.

Quietly, I fiddled with the action figure, having it strike out at invisible enemies and imagining the rest of the X-men surrounding in the thick of the battle. My imagination ran wild, and Magneto leaped through the window, with Sabretooth and Mystique fighting by his side. Wolverine guarded Rogue, since she was like a daughter to him, and worked alongside Professor X, Storm, Jean Grey, and Cyclops - and everyone else, of course. For the first time since my daddy died, I smiled.

As I had Wolverine slash his adamantium claws at his enemies, I made the mistake of glancing up, only to see both Klaus and Stefan observing me through the rearview mirror with small, private smiles. Blushing, I lowered Wolverine to my lap. "Keep playing with your toy, sweetheart," Klaus told me lightly, still smiling. "Nobody's stopping you."

The entire way to Chicago, I hopped the action figure around the car, having him claw at Stefan's head a few times for good measure. He swatted away at me only half-heartedly. It was such a simple joy, playing with the stupid little doll, but it was all I had.

I pouted once Klaus pulled over the car again, and both he and Stefan climbed out. I fully intended on staying inside for the rest of my life, no matter how short it was without more food or water, but Klaus pried open my car door, blinding me with sunlight. "Get out, then." Sulking, I cradled Wolverine to my chest, and he flicked his eyes upward. "You can take your bloody toy with you." Reaching down, he unbuckled my seatbelt, then yanked me out of the car.

As I squinted my eyes at the bright daylight and shifted my weight from foot to foot, Klaus said, "Welcome back to Chicago, Stefan!"

"What are we doing here?" the darker haired of the two asked, clearly unhappy with his decision to stop here.

"I know how much you loved it here. Bringing back memories of the good old ripper days?" I tilted my head to the side, bewildered. A ripper? What was a ripper? I'd heard of werewolves and vampires and hybrids, more than any eight-year-old should know of, but a _ripper_? I was tempted to ask, but I didn't want to talk just yet.

"Blacked out most of them." Stefan's voice was tight. "A lot of blood, a lot of partying. The details are all a blur." So . . . a ripper was a vampire? A mean, angry vampire? Stefan didn't seem much like a ripper, but I was no expert.

"Well, that is a crying shame. The details are what make it legend. Chicago was _magical_." He peered down at me, and placed his palm on the top of his head for safe keeping. "You'll love it, sweetheart. Have you ever left Tennessee before?" I shook my head, taking in the sights of the enormous city. "Even better. You ought to get used to traveling if you're with me."

"Why is she still with you?" Stefan demanded, and I frowned at his tone. He killed _my_ daddy. If anybody had the right to be rude, it was _me_. "Matter of fact, why am _I_ still with you? We had our fun, your hybrids failed." That was a funny way of putting it. "I mean, don't you want to move on?"

"We're going to see my favorite witch," Klaus replied, but it seemed to me that he was avoiding the questions, because that wasn't much of an answer. "If anyone can help us with our hybrid problem, it's her." Witches. I'd heard of witches, too. If you lived your life as a werewolf, then you'd end up running into a witch, to find a way out of the monthly turning and ending up disappointed as hell. I had a vague recollection of meeting witches before, but when I thought harder about it, the memories blinked out.

We ended up at a bar, much to my genuine unhappiness. Daddy had been a heavy drinker, and I spent enough time around bars and all those who lurked around in them. If some old fat shit blew smoke in my face again, I would murder him where he stood. It was called Gloria's bar, which Stefan seemed to recognize. "Looks familiar, doesn't it?"

"I can't believe this place is still here." Klaus led the way inside, tugging me along by the wrist. I wrinkled my nose at the interior. It was ugly, and smelled bad. Every surface was thick with dust and grime. I'd seen a lot of gross bars in my short lifetime, but this took the cake.

A beautiful African American woman stood inside, blonde hair only a few shades lighter than mine cropped close to her skull. "You've got to be kidding me."

Klaus grinned, and joked, "So a hybrid walks into a bar, says to the bartender . . ."

"Stop," the woman interrupted. "You may be invincible, but that doesn't make you funny." A slow but sure smile spread across my face; I liked her already. Whoever could be nasty to Klaus and live earned a good chunk of my respect. He more than deserved it, anyhow.

She turned her level gaze to Stefan. "I remember you." Then, her dark chocolate eyes found me. "I don't remember you." Klaus pushed me behind him, causing him to stumble. A crease formed in the woman's forehead.

"Yeah," Stefan said, "you're Gloria. Shouldn't you be . . . ?"

"Old and dead? Now, if I die, who's going to run this place, huh?" She might as well have been dead, because she wasn't doing a very good job of running it in the first place. I scoffed under my breath, and Klaus reached back to smack me upside the head, almost knocking me backwards.

"Gloria's a very powerful witch," he droned on. He had to use her to make more hybrids, I guessed. Since the first round all died, he had to have a second batch. To him, it was nothing but a failed recipe. To me, it was the end of the world as I knew it.

"I can slow the aging down some," she explained. "Herbs and spells. But don't worry, it'll catch up to me one day." Bored, I fidgeted in place, wanting to leave and never come back. Not that I had anywhere to go, not really.

"Stefan, why don't you go and fix us up a little something behind the bar? See if you can find the little one something nonalcoholic." It was nice that he thought of me, at least.

"Yeah, sure thing."

Klaus turned back to Gloria, all charm and smiles. "You look ravishing, by the way."

"Don't," she snapped. "I know why you're here. A hybrid out to make more hybrids? That kind of news travels. What I want to know is why _she_ ," she flourished a hand at me, "is here."

Klaus waved a hand at that, dismissing her concerns. "Something went wrong, and her father was one of the victims. Quite tragic, really. I decided to keep the little one, her sharp tongue amuses me - when she decides to _talk_ , of course," he added pointedly.

Gloria carried a keen look of disgust on her face. "You kept her, like a stray dog, after murdering her father?"

Klaus's smile faded as fast as it arrived, demonstrating that it wasn't real in the first place. "Now, now, Gloria, I did once like you, but let's keep it civil, shall we? What I choose to do with my possessions is no concern of yours." The short, fuzzy hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. He thought of me as one of his _possessions_. I hadn't wanted to kill him all afternoon, but the urge came rushing back. "Now, sweetheart, why don't you find yourself a nice little table to tuck yourself away in? You can continue playing with your toy." He nodded at the Wolverine figurine.

I satisfied myself with bouncing Wolverine all over the filthy tabletop as he went on and on and on about his stupid hybrids. Since it wasn't as interesting as the mutant battle raging on before me, I mostly ignored them - although the name _Rebekah_ surfaced a few times too many for me to not overhear.

Stefan was complaining about knowing Klaus in the 1920s, or something like that, but when I tuned my enhanced werewolf hearing to eavesdrop, Klaus was already hauling me out of the bar.

We ended up in a big, old, empty warehouse that had all kinds of spookiness attached to it. As creepy as it was, Klaus was the scariest thing in there, I reminded myself. My eyes widened at the sight of gleaming chrome coffins. Five of them. But Klaus only had his sights on one.

He opened it, revealing a stunning blonde woman, with strange gray veins stretched all over her body. It was his sister, I realized, connecting the dots. They looked kind of similar. Good looks ran in the family - not that Klaus was _handsome_ by any means, but - oh, who was I kidding, yes he was. The entire damn world knew it, and it wouldn't stop being true if I denied it.

The most fascinating thing about her, though, was the slender knife sticking out of her chest. She was dead. He smiled and reached down to caress her cheek. It didn't surprise me as much as it should have that he carted his dead family all over the place.

"I don't recognize her," Stefan mumbled. I kneeled down in front of the coffin, and plucked one stray yellow hair out of her face, placing it behind her ear and patting it. Klaus watched me with a strange expression.

"Well, don't tell her that," he finally replied after dragging his gaze away from me. "Rebekah's temper is worse than mine." I didn't think that was possible, but he knew better than I did. I gasped slightly as he pulled the knife from her chest, revealing a thin gaping hole. "Time to wake up, little sister. Any day now, Rebekah."

Now was my turn to eye him weirdly. Did his dead family _usually_ come back to life? If so, then consider me jealous. Bored again, I made moves to rest Wolverine ever so lightly on her forehead, but Klaus slapped my hand away. It stung like hell, leaving a nice red mark. "Watch it, sweetheart . . . ugh, Rebekah's being dramatic."

I decided to wander off as the two of them continued their oh so important conversation, trailing my fingers over the other coffins. One in particular caught my attention, and making sure that they weren't paying any attention, I pried it open. Inside lay a good-looking, dark-haired man with a wide, angular face and sharp cheekbones. He too had a knife stuck firmly inside of his chest, and he was wearing a fancy suit that had to cost more money than my daddy had earned in his entire life.

"And what are you doing over there?" Klaus blurred over to me in a speed I was still getting used to, and slammed the lid shut. "That's my brother, Elijah." There was a strange fondness resting under his accented voice.

He cleared his throat and continued, "I'm leaving you here with my sister. She'll kill the guard, so you might want to close your eyes for that bit, but she won't touch you. I know my sister better than anybody, and she would not harm a child, and where we're going, it's best if you stay here and offer her some company. When she wakes up, tell her to bring you and meet us at Gloria's bar, understand?"

I nodded, goosebumps traveling up and down my bare arms. Apparently satisfied, both Klaus and Stefan left. For lack of anywhere better, I seated myself on Elijah's coffin, swinging my legs back and forth and waiting for Rebekah to wake up. My heels clipped against the metal, echoing loudly in the empty space surrounding me.

It took anywhere between five minutes to an hour for her color to return to normal. I wasn't too sure, because I wasn't very good at keeping track of time and I'd been busy running around with Wolverine, fighting off invisible enemies and embarking on nonexistent adventures.

She shot up in her coffin, gasping. Her beauty was even more obvious without all the gray streaks ruining her skin. It was a nice, warm, peachy color now. Her eyes were almost the same color as Klaus's. It was obvious now they they were siblings.

The first thing she did was jump onto the guard, ripping into his throat. She guzzled from his neck wound, and I couldn't help but watch. I had seen more people die in the last few days than I had in a lifetime. It wasn't so bad this time, since I didn't know him, and she seemed very hungry.

Maybe he had to die so she could live.

Once she finished, she let him crumple onto the ground, drained of blood. It was surprisingly . . . neat. During this, she must have sensed me, and spun around faster than I could see. Her eyes were a horrid red, and crooked black vines were thick on her pasty cheeks. Once she saw me, they disappeared, and her eyes turned back to a normal blue. "Who are you?" she asked, not unkindly.

I hadn't spoken in a few days now, so I only blinked at her. Frustrated, she repeated, "Who _are_ you? And answer me this time, child." Right off the bat, I noticed that she was a lot like Klaus.

"Grace," I croaked. It cracked on its way out of my throat, a pathetic sound, and Rebekah abruptly softened. "My name's Grace. I'm eight. I'm a Pisces." The last part was meant to be funny, but she didn't crack a smile.

Carefully, she glided towards me as graceful as a wildcat, as if she were afraid she would frighten me. It took a lot more than that to scare me. "Hello, Grace," she murmured, looking me up and down. "My name is Rebekah. What are you doing here?"

"Your brother killed my daddy three days ago," I blurted out before I could stop myself. Her bright blue eyes widened. "He took me with him. H-He wanted me to tell you to take me and meet him at Gloria's bar."

It took her a few moments to digest all that, which I understood, fiddling with Wolverine while she mulled it over. "Why did he take you?" she eventually chose to say.

That was a good question, one I wasn't even sure of the answer. "I don't have anyone else. He said it was the least he could do. I didn't want to go with him, but he didn't care. I dunno." Then, I remembered her previous state in the coffin. "Uh . . . I'm awful sorry you were dead, ma'am. I'm glad you're not dead anymore. You're too pretty to have such ugly dead marks all over you."

Rebekah blinked once, then twice, and burst out laughing, clutching her sides as she bent over. Hesitantly, I joined her. "I've never quite heard it said like that. Your wording is delightful, I must admit," she chortled, wiping underneath her eyes. Her smile was bright and beautiful. She moved closer, and to my credit, I didn't even flinch. "Oh, your hair," she tutted, plucking one frazzled, loosening braid and bringing it closer to her face to study. "Did my brother honestly kill your father, kidnap you, and not bother to find you a change of clothes?"

"Your brother's an asshole," I informed her, and she laughed again. I liked the sound of her laugh. It was light and airy and bell-like. Both she and Klaus had pleasant laughs.

"That he is, that he is." Then, her face darkened. "Speaking of the erm, _asshole_ , where is he then? He's at Gloria's bar - wait a minute, how long has it _been_?" she gasped.

I shrugged. "I dunno. When did he kill you?" Now, I wasn't _positive_ he was the one to stick a knife in her chest, but it seemed reasonable from what I'd already seen of him.

"1922," she sighed. Oh. _Oh_.

"It's 2010," I told her apologetically. Tears formed a glassy surface over her gorgeous blue eyes, and I reached for her hand. The movement seemed to shock her for a second, but she did not pull away. "I'm sorry that you were dead for so long."

Squeezing my hand slightly before releasing it, she then brushed away her tears, composing herself. "Yes, well, it isn't your fault, now is it? Speaking of murder, why did Klaus kill your father?" She then seemed to realize the weight of such a question. "Oh, you need not answer that, if it's too much -"

"No, it's okay," I cut her off, eyes dry as a bone. "He broke his curse thing-y." Her hand rose to her mouth and she sucked in a sharp breath. "He wants to make others like him. My daddy was the first. Something went wrong, and he died. Klaus didn't want him to die, but he did."

"I'm sorry for your loss, little one," Rebekah said, an ancient sadness rooted deep within her.

"Me too," I said honestly, and then Klaus barged back into the warehouse, and Rebekah disappeared in the blink of an eye. That would take a while to get used to.

"Rebekah . . ." He strolled in, looking entirely too smug for my liking. "It's your big brother. Come out, come out, wherever you are."

I jumped about a foot into the air when she blurred over to him only to stab him in the chest. "Go to hell, Nik," she hissed. I winced on his behalf. That looked painful. Not that he didn't deserve it, of course, but still. It was the principle.

Klaus removed it from his chest as if it were nothing more than a splinter. "Don't pout. You knew it wouldn't kill me." Although I had always pestered my parents when they were both around to give me a baby brother or sister, this was the first time where I was glad that I didn't have any siblings.

"Yeah, but I was hoping it would hurt more."

Klaus didn't look all that angry, which was a miracle on his part. "I understand you're upset with me, Rebekah . . . So I'm going to let that go. Just this once." Peering over her shoulder, he smiled once he saw me. "Ah, so I see you've met my little comrade. She doesn't speak at the moment, unfortunately."

Rebekah tilted her head to the side with confusion. "She was talking freely to me about how you caused the death of her father only a minute ago."

Dramatically, he reeled backwards. "You wound me, Gracie!" he called over to me. That was the nickname my daddy used for me. It didn't sound the same when Klaus said it. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. "You haven't uttered a syllable in three days, but the second you meet my sister, you're a right Miss Chatty Cathy!"

I smirked at him as best I could. "I like her better than you. Don't kill her again."

If that bothered Klaus, he didn't let on. In fact, he seemed more pleased than anything that I was talking again. That wouldn't last long. "I brought you a little peace offering - not the tiny traitor, someone else." I took that as a compliment. "You can come in."

Stefan waltzed in all his hair-gelled glory, and Rebekah looked like someone took a two-by-four to her gut. "Stefan . . ."

Klaus compelled Stefan to remember their history together, and Stefan breathed, " _Rebekah_." This was turning into a Disney love plot, and I wasn't sure if that was a good thing either. None of this was made up of _any_ good things, I was beginning to realize.

He moved closer to her, as if in a daze, only for Klaus to grab his attention again. "Stefan."

"Grace," I squeaked, only to be included, and Klaus visibly had to bite back an amused smirk as he tried his very hardest to ignore my existence. Klaus was a confusing man. Most of the time, he preferred to pretend I wasn't there, but he had to _want_ me there since he was the one who kidnapped me. When I said something he didn't like, he bristled, but when I didn't say anything at all, he bristled even worse.

"I remember you," Stefan muttered, baffled. "We were friends."

"We _are_ friends."

Constantly bullying someone for no real reason and making them kill people for you didn't seem like much of a friendship at all, but Klaus would bite my head off for saying it. He was very touchy about his relationships. Probably because they were one-sided; Klaus was mildly fond of Stefan while Stefan seemed to wish for Klaus to burst into a big ball of hybrid flames.

"And now the reason _you're_ here," Klaus said to his sister, who was still drooling over Stefan. "Gloria tells me you know how to contact the Original witch." What was an _Original_ witch? Was that even scarier than a regular one? Of course Klaus wanted to contact _that_ one, then. I didn't know if he was aware of it or not, but he had some serious issues. He could use some therapy.

"The Original witch?" Rebekah echoed. I was waiting patiently - or not so patiently - for one of them to explain to the class who she was and why she mattered.

"What do you have that Gloria needs?"

Rebekah's hand moved to circle her bare neck. "Where's my necklace? What did you do with it? I never take it off!"

Neither sibling was looking in his direction as they bickered, but a look of fleeting realization then horror crossed Stefan's mug. He knew where the necklace was. As if sensing me, his green-eyed gaze met my narrowed glare, and he ever so slightly shook his head. Frowning, I jerked my head in Rebekah's direction and then cocked it in question. He swallowed hard.

Then I remembered he murdered my daddy, and grinned evilly. "Maybe Stefan knows where it is," I offered with an innocent flutter of my eyelashes, satisfaction blooming inside of my chest as both siblings turned toward them.

Stefan looked about ready to punt me across the room like a football. "I don't know why _I_ would know where it is if Rebekah doesn't," he said slowly and carefully, his sharp eyes never leaving me. "You were in here longer, kiddo. Do _you_ have it?"

Why, I never! Klaus spun around on his heel. "Does he have a point, sweetheart?" he asked me as I, completely outraged, opened and closed my mouth like a fish out of water. "Did you take the necklace while Rebekah was waking up?"

Stefan was a right son of a bitch, and the next chance I got, I was throwing him under the bus. Happily, with a big fat stupid grin on my face. "Why? So I can sell it to a stranger and tell them all about how my daddy was a werewolf and so am I and that I was taken by a mean, angry person who's a werewolf _and_ a vampire and who could kill them for shits and giggles?" Rebekah snorted at my term. Daddy used to utter it all the time when he thought I wasn't in earshot. "And I have no damn pockets to hide it in because you didn't let me go back to my damn house and get some damn clothes so I'm not wearing the same damn thing for three damn days straight, _damn_ _it_ -"

That was quite enough for Klaus, it appeared. He held up his hands in surrender. "All right, all right, I get it. I'm starting to like it better when you didn't talk." See? I told you it wouldn't take long. Inwardly, I celebrated my victory.

"Speaking of clothes," Rebekah interjected. "We need some. I can't go outside wearing a twenties' flapper dress, now can I? And she's been wearing the same dress for three days, which is a crime against everything good and fashionable -"

Klaus looked about ready to murder everything and everyone in the whole warehouse, but we _did_ end up in a department store. Both Klaus and Stefan lounged and drank a bottle of something - I didn't know what it was, but it was probably booze - as Rebekah searched for clothes and compelled a saleslady to help me do so.

As Rebekah tried on dress after dress, the poor saleslady towed me along to the girls' section. "Aren't you a pretty little girl," she crowed as she held up a frilly pink dress in front of me, sizing me up. Wrinkling my nose, I pushed it away, but she was already stowing away in the basket for safe keeping. When she wasn't looking, I snatched it up and tossed it in some other victim's basket.

Bored out of my mind, since I hated shopping and she was doing most of it for me, I wandered off with no real destination in mind. Maybe while Klaus was distracted I could make a break for it, but he'd find me. I knew he would. And he'd be angry. Angry Klaus was even harder to be around, so I decided that wasn't an option.

In the girls' sections, little girls and their mothers moseyed along the aisles and it hit me with a pang that I was an orphan now. One parent was dead, but my mama left me. She didn't care about buying me clothes or tying up my hair or kissing away my tears away like _these_ moms. No, she didn't care about me at all.

I didn't _mean_ to kill her brother. But he'd been an awful creepy man, trying to touch me like that, and I didn't regret it. Turns out, she'd loved him more than she'd loved me. I still remembered that day, crystal clear. After she found his mangled body, and blood on my hands and dress, she'd started hitting me. First on the backside, then on the legs, on the arms, on the head, on the face. She'd been so, so, so _mad_. Then she scrambled for the butcher's knife and started thrusting.

I'd seen it in her eyes. She'd _wanted_ to kill me. And she would have finished the job, if Daddy hadn't come home from work and stopped her mid-stab. The pain was like nothing else. Blood gurgled up and gushed from my vulnerable stomach, where she'd stuck the blade in good, and she would've twisted it into my chest if Daddy hadn't thrown her on the ground and wrestled for the knife, next to my dead uncle's carcass.

I only survived because I triggered the gene and my advanced werewolf healing kicked in. The stab wound had healed within minutes, and I hid inside the supply closet as Mama and Daddy screamed at each other at the top of their lungs. Mama raved on and on like a madwoman that I was a monster and deserved to die for killing her little brother. Maybe she was right. I didn't know. I was only seven, and scared out of my mind.

Then Mama left me, left _us_ , for good. Daddy made us leave after that, too, in case she decided to come back and finish the job.

It was only when I stumbled face-first into a rack of men's flannel shirts that I was jarred back to real life. A shiver ran up and down my spine. Somehow, in my trance, I'd found the shirts that my daddy wore almost every day of his goddamn life. Trembling, I reached out a hand and stroked the soft fabric. Tears sprung to my eyes.

It was then that I fully and wholeheartedly realized he would never wear those shirts again. That he'd never smile again or laugh or call me "Gracie." He would never protect me again, all 'cause I couldn't protect him. He was dead, truly dead.

For the first time in three days, I cried. All my pent-up emotions poured out of me at once. Dropping Wolverine to the ground, I punched at the shirts, imagining my daddy standing inside of them, and hit him as hard as I could because he was no better than my mama. He left me too, and he wasn't coming back. Without him, I had nobody. Without him, I was all alone.

Furious, hateful sobs erupting deep inside of my chest, I ripped the shirts from their hangers, reveling in each gruesome _tear_ as the fabric was torn into ribbons. In my horrible rage, I even dented the metal of the rack.

"Excuse me, little girl, you can't do that," someone from behind me chided, and in a blind fury, I leaped for him, my werewolf features coming out to play as I flipped him onto his back with ease and pinned him to the ground. I snarled over him, and he whimpered.

Someone yanked me away from the poor man, and as I was encased in a pair of muscular arms, lifted up into the air, I screeched my lungs out. I was only lucky that the store was empty enough for a weekday, so there weren't many witnesses. It was Klaus holding me, I knew, and that only made me angrier. I did everything in my power to break free of his iron hold, fighting like a rabid animal, but it was no use.

Eventually, I gave up and sobbed into his shoulder, hating myself for needing someone - _anyone_ \- to just hold me as I cried my heart out. "I-I'm n-never g-g-gonna see h-him ag-gain," I moaned into the thin fabric of his gray long-sleeved shirt. "I-It's your f-fault."

He didn't respond, and I didn't want him to. "I-I hate you," I whispered, clutching him tighter, opposite to my words. "You k-killed him, and I h-hate you." But I didn't hate him, for some Godforsaken reason. Not really. He was every bit responsible for my daddy's death, even if Stefan had the fatal blow, but I couldn't hate him.

Klaus held me as I cried myself to sleep, exhausted. I didn't hate him. Because as his slow, unnatural heartbeat lulled me into slumber, I realized that I wasn't alone.

 **A/N: Ahhhhhh, emotions. I'll admit, it hurt to write that. But that's the art of writing, isn't it? My dad wore a plaid shirt practically every day of his life, and seeing them around still aches. Anyway, enough from me. What'd you guys think about this installment? Let me know! :D**


	3. The Mystic Falls Gang

**A/N: Okay, wooow, the reaction to this story has been extraordinary. Thank you all so, so much. Now, I don't want to distract too much from the story, but Klaus gets mildly physical with Grace at the end of the chapter, using brief corporal punishment. No, I don't agree with those methods nor condone them, and I think it's fairly obvious by now for TVD/TO fans that whatever Klaus does out of anger, one should most likely do the opposite.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing and nobody but Grace, and it hurts my heart.**

 **Chapter 3: The Mystic Falls Gang**

Stefan's dead girlfriend was alive, and Klaus didn't like that. Turns out, Rebekah didn't like that either. I slept through a lot of drama, apparently. All I knew was that Klaus kept killing Stefan and we were heading to some town called Mystic Falls in Virginia. I was beginning to hate road trips.

After I woke up, Klaus handed me my Wolverine figurine, telling me offhandedly that I dropped it in the store when I tried to "murder a clothing rack." The stupid toy brought me more comfort than I realized when I got it back.

As soon as Klaus drove into the tiny little town, I decided that I hated it. It was so . . . _small_ , and small towns usually meant _boring_. He pulled up to what looked like a high school, based on the sign. "Stay here, you two, until Stefan wakes up," Klaus warned, leaving the truck without another word. I pouted, and Rebekah chuckled at the look on my face.

"This will be over soon," she reminded me, and I pulled another face to show how disgruntled I really was. "And then he'll get you a nice dinner, and you can try on your new clothes, little love." That was better, then. My stomach was starting to growl. She'd taken to calling me "little love" as often as Klaus called me "sweetheart." They were both fond of me, somehow, in their weird British way and despite everything that happened, I liked them too. Sure, I liked Rebekah a lot _more_ , but Klaus still wormed his way onto my short list of people I may or may not have cared about.

I _did_ need to wear a different clothing item, since I was still in my yellow summer dress. On the ride to Mystic Falls, Rebekah had pulled my braids apart and brushed my hair for over a half hour until the sunflower blonde waves shone. She promised me that once she learned the most popular modern hairstyles that she'd try them on me. Basically, I was her own personal doll, but I didn't mind it too much.

Klaus told me I was "receiving excellent treatment for a kidnapped, feral, werewolf orphan" and Rebekah made sure to hit him really hard on my behalf.

The color returned to Stefan's ashy skin and he jerked awake, startling me. I pulled my knees into my chest as he shot upward, gasping. "Oh, he lives," Rebekah remarked.

"About time," I mumbled, and she laughed softly.

"What happened?" Stefan asked, flitting his wary green gaze between the two of us.

"You died a lot," I said at the same time as Rebekah informed him, "You took a beating. The little love is right. My brother's been breaking your neck all afternoon. Quite the temper."

"Why did he bring us back to Mystic Falls?"

I rolled my eyes at his half-hearted avoidance. Even _I_ knew what the problem was, once Klaus explained to me the details of the sacrifice. It wasn't fair that the girl was killed, but still, according to Klaus, she was meant to be dead. "Your dead girlfriend's not dead," I sang, and Rebekah nodded along with me.

Stefan was officially in panic-mode. "Where is Klaus _now_?"

Haughty, Rebekah flipped her blonde hair behind her. "With any luck, ripping that cow's bloody head off." Ouch. Stefan jumped straight at her without any warning and the two of them tumbled out of the truck, him landing on top of her. I blinked once in surprise.

"Where is she?" he shouted.

"You really do love her, don't you?"

A protective instinct flared up inside of me and I leaped after them, my wolf features coming out to play. I landed gracefully on his back, and positioned my teeth right next to his throat, ready to bite at any time should he hurt Rebekah. He stiffened beneath me, and I snarled at him. "Get off Bekah," I growled. To prove myself, I grazed my teeth against the soft, vulnerable skin of his neck, flicking out my tongue for good measure.

There was a flurry of movement, then, where Stefan pried himself off Rebekah and then me off him only for Rebekah to pin him against the truck with a speed far superior to his. She punched him - _hard_ \- and hooked his neck with a crowbar. "Thanks for the backup, little love," she hummed to me before turning back to Stefan. "Consider me jealous."

She stabbed him with the crowbar, and he slumped over. At this point, such violence didn't bother me at all. I didn't know if that was a good thing or not. Rebekah happily linked her hand with mine, and began tugging me along to the school. "Come, Gracie. Let's have some fun."

Better than staying in the truck for the rest of the night, I thought with a smile. All schools were creepy at night, I realized when we broke in. I'd never been in a high school before. It was a lot bigger than my stupid grade school. In the dark, empty halls, stood two teenagers - a dark-haired boy and a blonde-haired girl. They were both very pretty, and he had her pushed against the lockers as he kissed her. I wrinkled my nose. Ugh, _gross_.

"You two are adorable," Rebekah interrupted them, but I didn't think so.

I smirked as they broke apart, looking at her first, then me. "Uh, do we know you?" the blonde girl directed towards Rebekah.

I tried to figure out who she was based off Klaus's endless descriptions. She was blonde, and the same age as Stefan's not-dead girlfriend, I remembered. So . . . she had to be _Caroline_ , I discovered when I sniffed the vampire in her. The boy was a werewolf, so he had to be Tyler, since he was the only one in Mystic Falls, according to Klaus. "You're Caroline, and you're Tyler," I said, pointing at each in turn, and Rebekah nodded in approval.

"Aren't you a smart little love!" she cooed as the two teenagers frowned at me. "So refreshing. Most children are obnoxious little idiots, I find." I found that too. "Yes, you're correct. She's the vampire friend of Elena's and he's the werewolf."

Caroline stood between Tyler and us, as if that would stop Rebekah from hurting them if she wanted to. "And who are you two?"

"We're the new girls," Rebekah replied before black veins stretched beneath her eyes, and fangs shot out of her mouth. She charged over to Caroline as Tyler shouted her name in fear, snapping the pretty blonde girl's neck. Like Stefan, she would come back to life. I didn't think it made much of a difference to Rebekah, though.

Then, Rebekah lunged for Tyler, and dragged him along. I followed closely as she busted open into what looked like the school gym. A basketball court - I liked basketball. Sometimes, when it was dark out, a few members of Paige's pack would play some pickup basketball and they occasionally let me play when they had one player short. I wasn't too good at it, but it was fun. A pang rattled through my chest. They were all dead now.

"Get off me!" the boy bellowed, struggling as hard as he could, without any success.

"Hush now," Rebekah shut him down.

Klaus was in the gym, along with a gaggle of teenagers. "I'd like you all to meet my sister Rebekah. Word of warning . . . She can be quite mean."

"Coming from you?" I commented as I skipped over to him, and he ruffled my hair, smirking.

Klaus glanced up from me to Rebekah. "Did you help my sister find the werewolf like a good little girl?"

"Yes, she did," Rebekah answered, throwing said werewolf into Klaus's waiting arms. "She recognized the two of them almost before I did. She's a smart little thing, Nik, you have your hands full." Klaus's eyes lit up like blue stars, and he grinned down at me.

"Leave him alone!" a brown-haired girl yelled, drawing Klaus's attention away from me. She was human, one quick whiff told me. She might've been Stefan's not-dead girlfriend. The others were human too, though.

Sighing, Klaus turned to the rest of them. "I'm going to make this very simple. Every time I attempt to turn a werewolf into a vampire hybrid, they die during the transition. It's quite horrible, actually." He pressed a hand down on my temple for a quick moment. "In fact, this one's father died of it - er, almost a week ago? Yes, that sounds about right. It was quite traumatic for everyone involved." I scowled up at him, and the brown-haired girl's doe eyes widened in horror. Klaus sunk his teeth into his wrist, and dribbled blood into the werewolf's mouth. "I need you to find a way to save my hybrids, Bonnie, so they don't end up like Gracie's poor dead southern father. And for Tyler's sake . . . you better hurry."

Klaus twisted Tyler's head around, and the sound of his neck breaking echoed all around the gym. The teenagers gaped at him.

Nothing interesting happened afterward. I left Wolverine in the car, so I ended up breaking open the storage room with my werewolf strength and dribbling around a basketball. Klaus was busy terrorizing everyone and went to go sit on the bleachers, the teenagers moaned and complained about their dead friend before a couple of them left, so I didn't bother asking them to play with me, and I had a feeling Rebekah would rather die than shoot a basketball.

As I missed shot after shot, only occasionally sinking one, Rebekah ended up dragging the dead boy out, leaving me alone with Klaus, a couple of scared teenagers, and the brown-haired girl who I was _pretty_ sure was Stefan's not-dead girlfriend. And that's when Stefan strolled in.

"Stefan," the brunette girl murmured, the only sound in the gym the bouncing of my basketball. As Klaus sent me a menacing warning look, I sat on the ball instead.

"Klaus," said Stefan.

"Grace," I whispered to myself.

"Come to save your damsel, mate?" Klaus sat still on the bleachers, tense, like he was ready to spring up at anytime.

"I came to ask for your forgiveness. And pledge my loyalty." He stood tall and proud, but I didn't believe him. And if _I_ didn't believe him, then neither did Klaus. In my opinion, he wasn't a very good liar.

"Well, you broke that pledge once already," Klaus pointed out, which is what I was thinking. His not-dead girlfriend was alive the entire time Klaus was with him, which I found out was three months. There was no going back from that.

"Elena means nothing to me anymore." Oh, so _that_ was her name. "And whatever you ask of me . . . I will do." He was such a bad liar. Any idiot could see how much he cared about Elena, and I was no idiot. My daddy used to tell me I was the most perceptive person he'd ever had the misfortune of meeting, whenever I called him out on his bullshit.

I scoffed.

It must've been a lot louder than I'd meant it to be, because everyone and their dog turned around to look at me. "Something to share with the class, sweetheart?" Klaus asked lightly, but I knew he was annoyed that I interrupted their heavy conversation.

"He's lying," I said, shrugging my skinny shoulders. Stefan stiffened like a board. "It's obvious. He loves her. Anyone can see it." Klaus pulled a thoughtful expression as he listened.

Stefan's lips twitched into a grimace. "She doesn't know what she's talking about, Klaus. She doesn't know me like you do."

Anger coursed through me. "That only means I'm willing to see through your bullshit a lot easier," I snapped, slightly offended. "Klaus, you're giving him the bn - benf - bene -"

"Benefit of the doubt?" Klaus supplied, the ghost of a smile on his handsome face.

"Yeah, that. He's lying." Elena watched me with an open mouth, clearly confused by my role in this whole thing. She wouldn't be the only one. Klaus still never truly explained why he was keeping me.

"Hmmm." Klaus stood up, his hands clasped behind his back. "I don't know about you, mate, but I think I believe her. She's a smart one. Why don't we test it?" He blurred over to Elena, and slapped her so hard across the face that she was knocked right off her feet, sailing through the air.

Well, I didn't mean for _that_ to happen. Stefan went straight for Klaus, all vamped out, and Klaus grabbed him by the throat. Meanwhile, I hesitantly moved to Elena, offering her a hand up. She eyed me weirdly, but then took the hand, and sat up, rubbing her cheek. "I'm sorry," I mumbled.

"She means nothing to you?" Klaus shouted at Stefan, choking him. "Your lies just keep piling up. Little Gracie was right, it appears!"

"Let her go!" Stefan bellowed back, struggling beneath Klaus' iron hold. "I'll do whatever you want, you have my word!" Somehow, that didn't assure me. What was the point of having a word if you lied all the time?

"Your word doesn't mean much. I lived by your word all summer, during which time I never had to resort to this . . ." He held him closer, and I knew what he was doing. He was compelling him. "Stop fighting."

"Don't do this," Stefan begged. "Don't do this!"

"I didn't want to, all I wanted was your allegiance. Now I'm going to have to take it!" Elena drew in a harsh breath besides me, her hand rising to her chest. I thought about offering some words of comfort, but decided against it. I didn't like Stefan much anyway.

"Don't . . . _don't_ . . ."

Klaus began compelling him again. "You will do exactly as I say when I say it. You will not run, you will not hide, you will simply just obey."

"No, Stefan!" Elena shrieked, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Like that would make any difference whatsoever.

Klaus swiveled his head around slightly toward me. "Sweetheart, go find Rebekah, won't you?" Nodding, I hustled out of the gym just as he said, "Now kill them, ripper." The unmistakable sound of murder flooded my ears before I entered the hallway, slamming the door shut behind me.

This was my time to run away, I realized. Klaus was busy, Bekah was busy. All I had to do was _leave_ , and get far enough away that they couldn't find me.

But where would I _go_? I had no family left - well, none that wanted me. An eight-year-old wandering the streets would gain some attention. At best, I'd end up in a foster home. At worst . . .

I found Rebekah in an empty hallway, leaning against a locker. She beamed at me, and patted the spot next to her. The blonde girl, Caroline, was waking up from her temporary death. "We didn't have mobile telephones in my day," Bekah announced. "Would have made life a lot easier, I suppose."

Yanking me into a sideways hug, she snapped a picture of the two of us, then redid it since I barely had a chance to smile the first time. "Where's Tyler?" Caroline asked, unamused. His dead body was thrown lazily next to her, I noticed.

I spoke up for the first time. "Klaus killed him, but he'll wake up. He might even live too, if he's not like my daddy." Gasping, Caroline hovered over his unmoving figure. "A whole pack of werewolves died 'cause he did it wrong, but now that he knows Stefan's not-dead girlfriend is alive, it may work."

"Think of it as he's having a nap," Rebekah added when Caroline stayed silent. "When he wakes up, he'll be a hybrid." Caroline lowered her ear to his chest, searching for a nonexistent heartbeat. Rebekah scrolled through the pictures on the cellphone and found one of Stefan and his not-dead girlfriend. They looked so _happy_. I wrinkled my nose again, like earlier - _gross._ "Ugh," Bekah agreed, "vomit." Then she zoomed in around Elena's neck, and lo and behold, it was a necklace - her necklace, I assumed, by her fearsome scowl.

"Stefan had it," I said instantly, remembering his face when Rebekah was first out of her coffin and she couldn't find it. "I forgot to tell you. I guess he gave it to her."

Her pretty blue eyes narrowed to slits. "Stay here." She sped off, leaving me alone with Caroline.

Hesitantly, Caroline rolled back onto her haunches. "Who are you?" she whispered, keeping a hand on Tyler's upper arm, rubbing it anxiously.

"Grace. Klaus killed my daddy a few days ago, then kidnapped me." Her look of pure, absolute shock almost made me laugh.

"We can get you out," she promised, completely earnest. "Me and Tyler and . . . um, Alaric, probably, and -"

"What's an Alaric?" She blinked once, then twice, and burst out laughing. Soon enough, tears flooded her eyes and her laughter turned to sobs.

"I-I'm sorry," she forced out. "T-This is just so overwhelming. V-Vampire emotions, you know."

I shook my head. "No, I don't know. I'm a werewolf. I don't get sad easy, I get mad easy."

"Easily," she corrected, then wrung her hands together nervously. "And, um, aren't you a little young? Tyler only activated the curse a few months ago, and he's seventeen. How old are you?"

"Eight. I killed my uncle a year ago," I chirped, and her jaw dropped open.

"I-I . . . oh. I'm . . . sorry?"

It did sound weird to most people. "Thanks."

Just then, a loud, obnoxious noise sounded all the way from the gym - a buzzer, maybe. Klaus and Rebekah appeared in the hallway, and Klaus hauled me to my feet by an elbow, ushering me along with Rebekah to an abandoned classroom. Then, like the jerk he was, he left us there.

As the minutes rolled by, I continued the quiet conversation with Caroline, and found myself liking her. She hadn't wanted to be a vampire, but it kind of made her a better person. Some woman named Katherine murdered her with a pillow. Even Rebekah seemed a little sympathetic when she heard that, although she didn't speak.

Tyler woke up with a jolt, gasping and sputtering. "W-Where am I? What happened?" So far, he didn't have blood trickling down from his eye sockets, so that was a good sign.

"Tyler," Caroline breathed, not knowing what to say.

"Don't be shy about it," Rebekah sneered.

"What's going on?" the boy asked frantically.

"Klaus is turning you into a vampire," Caroline explained sadly. "A hybrid. You're in transition."

"Don't leave out the hard parts, sweets. You'll only survive if your witch is successful. If not . . . You're pretty much dead."

"She's right," I said, grabbing Caroline's attention. "All the others died. If Tyler survives . . . he'll be the first." A lance of pain shot through my chest. Why couldn't my daddy have been the first? Why did it have to be some teenager I never met and couldn't care less about? For Caroline's sake, though, I hoped he lived to tell the tale.

Caroline watched me for a long moment, her mouth opening and closing for lack of anything to say. "You'll be the first, then," she said down to him. "If she's right, and the others died, then you'll be the first. Bonnie will find a way. I _know_ it."

"Speaking of the witch, I wonder how she's doing." Rebekah checked Caroline's phone, then tilted it around for all of us to see. There was only two minutes left. "Tick tock goes the gym clock."

After the clock went off, Klaus ended up coming in, tapping me on the head as he strolled by. "Well, the verdict's in. The Original Witch says the doppelgänger should be dead." Who the _hell_ was the Original Witch, and what did she have to do with anything? Her name kept popping up everywhere.

Rebekah hopped up from her seat, as thrilled as a kid who got the shiny red bike on Christmas morning she'd been hoping for all year. "Does that mean we can kill her?" She sounded _far_ too pleased about that.

"No," Klaus sighed, "I'm fairly certain it means the opposite." He turned to me as Rebekah squawked in the background. "No bleeding from the eyes, strange behavior? You would know better than anyone, I daresay."

"No, but he hasn't drank any human blood yet." Nodding decisively, he patted me once more before pulling out a test tube full of blood. Rebekah had to restrain Caroline as she began to panic at the sight of it.

"Call it a hunch," he muttered, then showed the test tube to Tyler. "Elena's blood. Drink it."

Caroline protested and struggled against Rebekah, so I walked over to her and grabbed one of her hands. "Caroline, he'll die if he doesn't have it." I sounded each syllable out slowly and carefully to calm her down.

"You told me the hybrids died after they drank blood!" she argued.

"That was before we knew Stefan's not-dead girlfriend was alive," I reminded her. "We used a random person's blood. His name was Derek, but he wasn't important." Except for the fact that he was Paige's boyfriend, and he sang to me sometimes . . . "Elena is the doppelgänger. She's special. That has to mean something." Why she was special, I had no idea, but the fight escaped her limbs and she nodded mutely, accepting that.

Meanwhile, Klaus managed to shove the blood down the poor boy's throat. "There we go. Good boy." He then nodded over to me. "Thanks for offering the explanation, sweetheart, you took the words straight from my mouth. Rebekah was right, you _are_ a smart little thing." I wasn't sure if I should take that as a compliment when Klaus would probably milk that for his own advantage as much as it was worth.

Once the blood registered to Tyler, he coughed, and collapsed onto the ground, screaming and twitching, as if he were having a seizure. I only knew what a seizure was because my great-uncle on my mama's side had one in front of me. He died from it when he clipped his head on the edge of the table, streaking blood down the wooden surface. I was five. He was the first death I'd ever seen, but most certainly not the last.

Tyler's face changed, his eyes glimmering gold, fangs sticking out from his gums and black lines stretching out on his cheeks. I went over to tug on Klaus's hand. "Did it work?"

Klaus's eyes never left the boy. "Yes . . . I believe we have our very first working hybrid, sweetheart."

* * *

Klaus, Rebekah, and I all stood in front of the hospital where Elena was getting her blood drained from her body. I felt bad for her. She seemed nice enough, and not only was she getting sucked dry, but Stefan was a crazy ripper now without his humanity. Klaus finally explained to me what that meant.

I was fidgeting too much, so Klaus made me go sit on a bench by myself so he could "speak with his sister in peace." At least I managed to snatch Wolverine out of the truck, so I wasn't all alone. Klaus threatened me if I dared listen into them, but Rebekah finally left, so I joined his side.

A remarkably handsome black-haired man came out of nowhere, and my heart skipped a beat. His eyes were like icy chips, and whoever he was, he seemed angry with Klaus. Klaus carefully placed a hand on my head, locking me into place. "Well, look who has finally decided to show up to the party!"

"Where is she?" the man demanded. Oh, he had to be searching for Elena. But who was he?

"Elena? Ah, she's making a donation for a greater cause." I snorted, and Klaus's grip tightened around my skull.

The man moved towards the hospital, but Klaus stopped him. "I'm afraid I can't let you interfere, mate."

"Why do you call everyone mate when you don't like most of them?" I piped up, confused, and he huffed. For the first time, the other man noticed me.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked, sizing me up with his narrowed glaciers of eyes.

"I'm Grace. Who the hell are _you_?" I countered, crossing my arms.

His lips curled up into a sneer. "Damon. I'm a big bad vampire. I could kill you in a second."

Already, I didn't like him. "Yeah? I'm a tiny little werewolf, but if I bit you, I could kill _you_." His face dawned with realization, and he frowned.

"I'm faster, kid, and it isn't the full moon. Anyway, do you think you could bite me before I snapped your itsy bitsy neck?" Faster than the speed of light, Klaus slammed Damon against the hood of a car, and snarled in his face. Damon was faster than me, sure, but Klaus was a _helluva_ lot faster than him.

"You threatened the wrong child, _mate_ ," he growled. I jumped in surprise. He seemed genuinely furious for me. "I do enjoy the prospects of killing you, but I promised your brother I wouldn't have you harmed." He then tilted his head to the side in mock confusion. "But, then again, he probably doesn't care anymore."

He promised his brother, but . . . ? Oh, Damon had to be _Stefan's_ brother. I smiled to myself. I was finally connecting the dots. Man, I loved being smart. "Do you want to bite him, sweetheart?" Klaus called back to me. "I'll hold him down for you."

Well, I didn't get to kill Stefan - _yet_ \- so his brother would have to do. "Okay!" I chirped, and Damon groaned as Klaus shoved his forearm against his throat, suffocating him. I shimmied onto the hood of the car and positioned my teeth over his neck, ready to cheerfully chomp down.

"Get your werewolf cooties away from me!" Damon snapped, wriggling away from me before Klaus pinned him down once more. "Klaus, wait - don't you want to know about your friend Mikael?"

That got to Klaus. Whoever he was, even the mention of his name unsettled him deeply. He paused, and for a second, I swore his hand trembled around Damon's throat. "What do you know about Mikael?" Who the hell was Mikael anyway, if he scared Klaus so bad?

"Just that he knows you're here," Damon hissed.

"You're bluffing," Klaus spat, but I saw the reaction it brought in him. He was afraid. Actually _afraid_. If a murderous, terrifying thousand-year-old hybrid was afraid of this someone named Mikael, then I sure as hell didn't want to meet him. Shivering, I hopped off the car hood.

"Katherine and I found him. Consider it our leverage." I was so lost! Who the hell was _Katherine_? Wait, was it the same Katherine who killed Caroline? Again, connections! But if he was friends with Katherine, then that meant he probably wasn't friends with Caroline, which cemented my belief that I didn't like him.

Klaus swallowed hard, then threw him against another car, denting the poor innocent vehicle. He scooped me up, and sped away, motion sickness rooting deep inside of me. Just as bile rose up my throat and my stomach churned, we'd arrived to the truck. I squawked as Klaus pushed me into the back seat, buckling me up so quickly his hands were a blur of peach. "Klaus, stop!" I reached for the buckle, and he slapped away my hand, a red patch immediately forming on the back of it. I sulked, dropping Wolverine to the truck floor.

He zoomed into the driver's seat, and revved up the truck. "What are you doing? Who's Mikael?" I squeaked. "What about Rebekah?"

"We're leaving," he snarled, pulling out of the parking lot. Panic charged through me. Klaus was bearable when Rebekah was around, because she was my friend, but without her . . . ?

"We can't leave her behind!" I shouted, and curling up his lips to reveal bared teeth, he slammed his fist down onto the dashboard, leaving a healthy crack spread through it. I recoiled at the motion, but didn't back down. "We have to go back for Bekah!" When he refused to stop driving, I kept on with it. "Bekah, Bekah, we haveta get Bekah, Bekah, Bekah, _Bekah,_ BEKAH!"

" _Shut the hell up!_ " he roared, ramming his foot onto the gas, jerking the truck forward. Angrily, I kicked the back of his seat, over and over and over again to prove my point. Twisting around in his seat, he reached backwards and smacked me on the side of the bare thigh, right below my hip since my dress had gotten caught on the stupid seat. The second he pulled away, a red handprint formed. I balked, then growled furiously, the feral sound rumbling inside my chest. "Keep it up," he hissed, "and I'll hike up your bloody dress and show you how irked I am!"

Heat formed behind my eyes, and I looked up at the rearview window, amber flashing. "I hate you!" I screeched, and he slammed on the breaks, the entire truck jolting forward. He glowered at me through the rearview mirror, his own eyes glinting gold, and I shrunk away from him. Pulling over the truck, he jumped out the driver's side. Unbuckling my seatbelt, I scooted as far away as I could, my southern nature warning me that I was inches away from being ass-beaten by a mean, angry hybrid.

Klaus pried open my door, and terrified, tears welled up in my eyes. He reached for me, yanking me forward, and landed several hearty blows on my backside that sent me reeling before I wiggled free and tumbled right out of the truck, landing on the asphalt of the street. I started to cry at the sudden pain of the impact, beginning to crawl away, the hard pebbles scraping up my palms and knees. "L-Leave me alone!" I shrieked, stumbling over a pothole and collapsing down next to it. Curling up into a ball, I bawled my southern eyes out. "I-I-I wanna g-go _home_!"

It took me a few minutes of sobbing to realize Klaus wasn't heading after me. Blinking away a sheet of tears, I saw that Klaus was still standing by the car door, where he'd been when he smacked me around, motionless, his eyes glued on me. Finally, after I realized I wasn't in more danger, I wiped my tears away and stood up, since all my war wounds had healed already. Tentatively, wiping my runny nose with the back of my hand, I shuffled over to him. "I don't hate you," I mumbled, staring at my _very_ interesting shoes, understanding that's what set him off.

"I apologize for hitting you." Klaus's apology was so quiet that even with my werewolf hearing, I had to strain to hear him. I forced myself to look him in the eye, and noticed that he was truly sincere. "I will never hit you again. You have my word." Unable to help myself, I sniffled pathetically, and he sighed. He kneeled down to my level, and gently grasped both of my shoulders. "Mikael is my father. When I was a child, he beat me relentlessly, and I hated him for it."

He ducked his head, and for an instant, I could've sworn that I saw moisture glimmering in his eyes. It was possible I just imagined it, but . . . "I . . . I do not want you to be terrified of me like I was of him."

"I'm not afraid of you," I said quietly, trying to absorb all of the new information when it was so rare for him to mention anything personal whatsoever. Did that mean he was starting to view me as his . . . as his . . . I cleared my head of those thoughts, unable to handle them. "And I'm sorry for saying I hated you," I repeated for good measure. "I don't."

A minute later, we were back on the road. Things weren't _fixed_. My daddy was still dead, and he was leaving Rebekah behind, and I had no idea what was in store for my future. But somehow, it felt like the situation was improving, and for the first time since my daddy was killed, I didn't mind being dragged along with Klaus.

It made me feel wanted.

 **A/N: So, the relationship between Klaus and Grace is dysfunctional at best, but things will slowly progress for the better. Not to say Klaus won't slip up, because he will, but he's . . . on the right track, if you will. Next chapter will be entirely original, no Mystic Falls influence at all.**

 **Now, tell me what you think in the comments, pretty please ;D.**


	4. Howl With Me

**A/N: Hey, all! Your response to this story has been amazing, and to those who have read, favorited, followed, and reviewed, thank you soooo much. Each email notification I get makes me beyond happy.**

 **I don't have much else to say other than this is an entirely original chapter, in that it does not include an episode from the show. It's Klaus and Grace in Portland, and I'll admit, I had quite a bit of fun with this one . . . It's a bit shorter, but I'll have the next chapter up soon. Anyway, please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks so much :).**

 **Disclaimer: I am not Julie Plec. I only own Grace. Tear.**

 **Chapter 4: Howl With Me**

Klaus stared at me like I'd grown a second head while I gobbled down my piece of pepperoni pizza as if it were the last slice on earth. I think he regretted not giving me more quarters. In the little pizzeria we'd stopped in, I had been playing pinball so he could make connections with new werewolves, but I ran out of money soon enough and by then, the food had arrived and I was _starving_.

It had been a few weeks since my daddy died and Klaus kidnapped me, and so far, it had been going all right. In fact, he was my only friend, and I might've been _his_ only friend. That was a little pathetic - but more on his part than mine. But before he started popping out more hybrids, we only had each other to talk to. In fact, he wanted to move me up to the front seat since Rebekah and Stefan were gone, but realized I was too young. Too young to sit shotgun, and too young to be turned into a hybrid. I hated being eight.

He found me some paper and pencils to draw on, though, and gave me a few tips since he was an artist himself, which was nice of him. I spent most of my time drawing pictures for Bekah, to give them to her once we returned to Mystic Falls as an apology for leaving her behind.

"So, how do you like the hybrids thus far?" Klaus asked conversationally, eating his own meal in a much more _refined_ manner. He _would_ use a knife and fork for pizza. "Tony has the makings to be a good mate, Mindy's quiet but loyal." I shrugged, and he furrowed his brow. "Don't you like them?"

Finishing up my slice, I scrubbed the grease off my hands with a stray napkin. "They're okay, I guess. They're your friends, not my friends." And really, they weren't his friends either, since they were all under his control, but I chose not to say that aloud.

Klaus leaned back in his seat, thoughtful. "Do you miss people your own age?" At first I'd say no, because I didn't have a lot of friends to begin with since I mostly spent my time with werewolves, but now . . . "I can't just enroll you in a school," he explained for the thousandth time as he took my silence for an answer. "You'd be a prime target now that word has gotten out that the big bad wolf has been traveling with a significantly smaller wolf. While you're going down the slide, or sitting on the swings, you might end up with a bullet in your tiny little skull."

"I know that," I grouched, annoyed that he wouldn't even _consider_ sending me to school. I used to hate it, because I hated most people my own age, but I now was jealous that other kids were learning more than me since the school year started. "But I'm behind now."

He scoffed. "Sweetheart, I'm a thousand years old and experienced in countless languages, cultures, and other significant worldliness. I could teach you more than any overworked, underpaid second grade schoolteacher -"

"Third grade," I cut him off swiftly, to avoid a long rant. "I'm eight."

Klaus rolled his eyes and waved it off. "Yes, yes, whatever. Seven, eight, same difference. But while you could be learning to count and to share your toys," he was drastically underestimating school in general, and I couldn't tell if he really thought that or was being obnoxious on purpose, "I can teach you what _really_ matters. When those little ankle-biters enter the real world, they won't know what hit them. You, on the other hand, will be equipped and ready for anything."

I grunted, and he frowned at the lack of a response. Finally, I decided to mention the _real_ reason I was in such a bad mood. "It's the full moon tonight," I muttered, and his ocean blue eyes widened in understanding. "I heard Mindy saying it. They won't turn, but I will."

I dreaded it every month, and it was hard to live around it. Having every bone in your body break and rearrange once every thirty days made a lot of other things in life seem unimportant in comparison. "I'll stay with you," he offered. "In wolf form, or hybrid form. Whichever tickles your fancy."

"Hybrid," I reasoned. "If I go off and kill an entire city, you could stop me. As a wolf, you'd join me 'cause you think like an animal." My inner wolf itched and crawled beneath my skin at the thought of it. He nodded his acceptance.

Tears pricked at the back of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. It was the first full moon without my daddy, and I didn't know what to do without them. He always made me feel better. I clutched my Wolverine toy as tight as I could, but my lower lip trembled anyway and Klaus caught it. "Are you afraid?" he asked softly, and I nodded. "One day, about ten years from now, I'll make you a hybrid. I promise you that." He nudged up my chin with his knuckles so I could look into his surprisingly earnest eyes. "You'll be my right hand woman. I know ten years might seem like a long time, but I assure you, it'll pass as quickly as the blink of an eye."

I shook my head, my pigtails whipping from side to side. "I'm eight. That was my _entire_ life. Ten years is even _more_ than that. It'll take forever and ever and _ever_." The corners of his lips tugged up. "And ever," I added for effect. "You're a million years old. It doesn't matter to _you_."

"A thousand, sweetheart, let's not give me extra age marks." He eyed me carefully as I continued to sulk. "How about this. Considering you're about to have all the bones in your body broken and you'll turn into a rabid canine, I'll get you a toy."

". . . Go on."

Klaus smirked. "Any toy in the entire city is yours for the choosing."

* * *

I tugged Klaus into the biggest Build-a-Bear in Portland, and he peered around suspiciously, as if expecting his enemies to pop out with cameras and photograph his downfall. A little boy toddled by, and a mother appeared out of thin air next to Klaus. "What an adorable little girl you have," she hummed as I searched through designs.

"What?" he replied, distracted. "Oh, sure."

The mother rubbed against him as she reached for something. "I love a man who spends time with his kids."

The tiniest of smirks spread across his plump lips. "She's not mine. I kidnapped her a couple weeks ago after her father died in a botched experiment of mine. She's my little comrade."

The mother recoiled, confused, until a blinding smile overtook her face. "Humor is another quality I love in a man." I snorted softly to myself. Of course she didn't believe him. Who would believe a story like that? The truth was crazier than any lie. "She looks just like you," the mother crooned, and we smirked at the same time in different parts of the store. "The blond hair and blue eyes is so gorgeous on the two of you."

"She's not mine." Klaus blinked, as if it had just occurred to him what he said. "Er, she will be . . . when I adopt her."

I screeched to a stop, my sensitive werewolf ears hearing perfectly. It had to be a cover-up for the woman, right? "That's so nice of you," the mother gushed, a hand to her breasts, lifting them up to put them on full display. He didn't notice, too focused on watching me.

"Yes, well, I'm quite a benevolent person when I want to be." As I continued to spy on them out of the corner of my eye, I saw how uncomfortable he was.

"I bet you are." The mother placed a hand on his arm. "Do you have a wife?"

"Aren't you forward," Klaus muttered. I decided on a green, shamrock design since I was born on Saint Patrick's Day and I held it up, smiling. Klaus immediately abandoned the mother once he noticed, and hustled toward me. She pouted after him. The eyes of every mother in the store were glued on him, even the married ones. "Hurry up," he growled once he reached me. "If you think I don't notice all of them objectifying me, you're wrong. How do I say I'm not interested in their suburban, soccer mum language? Normally, I would be pleased, but this situation is bizarre even for me," he mused. "No amount of kinks could justify this."

"What's a kink?"

He paused for a long moment. "It's something my brother Kol has a lot of."

"Is that a good thing?"

Klaus bit his lip, as if he wanted to smile. "It depends on the girl."

"Why?"

"Not every girl enjoys riding crops and chains and blindfolds."

My eyebrows knitted together. ". . . What?"

"Never mind."

"But -"

"Forget I said anything."

"But I want to kno-"

"Shut up and stuff your damn bear."

Once I had stuffing shoved into the bear, I searched high and low for the perfect outfit as Klaus rolled his eyes so hard they were like to fall right out of his head. "Are we done?" he complained as I made my third round. Elated, I snatched a lavender bubble dress. "Wonderful. We ought to hurry up before you turn into a wolf and rip apart everyone in this store. What a crime that would be."

The woman behind the desk cheerfully reminded me to name it and hug it every day, and Klaus sent her a truly menacing glare when she wouldn't take his credit card right away. When the now very unsettled woman worked with the cash register, I informed Klaus, "Her name is Bekah."

He snorted. "Yes, I'll be sure to tell her you named a fluffy green bear after her. The resemblance is uncanny."

If Rebekah was there, I think she would've hit him, so I did it for her. When he looked down at me in surprise, despite not budging an millimeter, I explained, "It's for Bekah since she can't."

". . . Fair enough." He swallowed a laugh, snatching his card back from the poor lady, not bothering to thank her. I let him drag me out of the store and I happily hugged my new friend. Tony pulled up in a nice, fancy car - Klaus must've called him while I was browsing. Klaus climbed into shotgun while I wiggled into the backseat, content.

"Nice little bear you have there," Tony told me, winking, and I only nodded back. I didn't like Tony. He was trying to be like Klaus, but it wasn't working. He was a faulty, lame version of Klaus.

"The full moon is tonight," Klaus clarified. "She's moody." Tony and all the other hybrids had been shocked once they found out I was a triggered werewolf. It was rare, apparently, to activate the curse so young and live to tell the tale. _Really_ rare. Daddy and I'd lived in such a bubble in Paige's pack, it was hard to know. I knew it wasn't _normal_ , but apparently it was _unheard_ of.

"I get it," he said, flashing me a sympathetic look through the rearview mirror. I hugged Bekah the bear tightly to my chest. He was lucky that he was a hybrid and had all the perks of being a werewolf without actually having to turn into one. In ten years, I could be like him. So, basically an eternity.

I mostly stayed in the car for the rest of the afternoon as Klaus scouted out more potential werewolves, playing with Bekah and Wolverine. Klaus was reaching a dozen hybrids now, and he had no intentions to _stop_. He said he didn't want slaves, but he sure ordered them around a whole lot. I didn't trust any of them. They all claimed to be loyal to Klaus since they no longer had to turn once a month, but once the shine wore off . . .

My nerves itched as stars began to blanket across the sky. Klaus held my hand as we found the nearest dense forest - Portland was full of them - and picked through the trees. We didn't talk. I left my shoes in the car, along with my toys and my fears. Klaus kept an extra change of clothes for me.

I wasn't afraid anymore now that it was almost happening. I'd get through it, like I always did. My heart jolted as the full moon drifted across the night sky. This was it. This was my calling.

At first, it would take hours to shift, but after a year of it, it took less and less time each transformation. Heat flooded beneath my skin, and my leg snapped into two.

I cried out as I collapsed to the dirt, Klaus watching me closely. Agony replaced everything else as one by one, my bones broke and rearranged. I screamed over and over again, louder each time, as the strangled noises echoed into the night. It was as if I forgot how horrible it was, every month.

* * *

It could have been minutes or hours before I finally finished, and all human thoughts fled my mind, leaving only instincts and hunger. My paws gripped the dirt beneath me and my hackles rose as I saw the figure before me.

Yellow hair. Tall. Strong. Wolf. Dangerous. I padded toward him, sniffing him out. No, not just wolf. Death. Vampire. He was vampire. Vampires bad. Death. I snarled at him, crouching down into a defensive position. Vampires were enemy. Death. Enemies died. Growling deep within my chest, I lunged for him, but he dodged. He barked something in his strange voice, but I could not understand his foreign noise patterns.

Vampire then turned into wolf after stripping down, snaps and groans echoing from him. An enormous light brown wolf stood in its wake, and one sniff warned me that he was _alpha_. No alphas. Bad. Threat. Away.

I turned around and tore through the woods, flying over any obstacle that blocked my way. All the trees and plants and leaves were a blur of green as I ran and ran and ran. Freedom. This was what freedom felt like.

Alpha charged after me, his lips curling up into a snarl. I pushed my legs faster, and water appeared in front of me. I stopped, understanding it was too deep to run through. As I looked into the rippling waves, a small, dainty silver and white wolf stared back at me.

A big, brown wolf moved next to the small silver and white one and continued to bare his teeth. Growling viciously, I clamped my sharp teeth around his neck, and a struggle ensued which ended with me pressed against the dirt, my snout held down by his monstrous paw. _I am the Alpha,_ he seemed to say. _Submit! Submit, submit, submit._

I snapped at him a few times until he pinned me down so I couldn't move. _Submit._ I buried my nose into the dirt, and he released me, howling at the sky. A quick swish of his tail had me scurrying after him as the full moon loomed above us.

I was free.

 **A/N: I was thinking about this wolf scene for a while, and just had to include it. I had a lot of fun with the Build-a-Bear scene. Klaus is one very handsome hybrid ;). Anyway, the relationship between Klaus and Grace is developing! He's even beginning to view her as his daughter, in a way. At this point, she more views him as a friend, but that'll all change soon enough, when she begins viewing him in a fatherly light.**

 **I looooooove feedback! See you next time! :D**


	5. The Monster Who Monsters Fear

**A/N: Guys, I've had so many freak attacks at the notifications I get. So many happy dances. So many. You readers are nothing short of spectacular. Thank you so, so much.**

 **I had fun with this chapter. There's a scene with Katherine that I couldn't help but include because I love Katherine and find it hypocritical that Damon and Klaus can try and achieve redemption but not her. Like, seriously, what gives? She's a survivor. Plus, she and Elijah ;D.**

 **Anyway, I won't continue to bore you with this author's note. Please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks so much! :D**

 **Chapter 5: The Monster Who Monsters Fear**

Bored, I lay stretched across the backseat of Klaus's truck, hugging Bekah the bear to my chest. This whole hybrid thing was getting real old, real fast. Not that I _wanted_ them to all die, but I was a little mad that they lived, and my daddy didn't. What made them so much better? Nothing. Klaus searched high and low for my daddy, too, while Portland practically had a werewolf in every other neighborhood.

I thought about dozing off when Klaus jumped into the driver's seat, slamming the door so hard behind him the entire car trembled on its frame. "We're going back to Mystic Falls," he snapped, revving up the engine. Surprised, I peeled my face from the seat material, sat back up, and buckled myself in.

"Who died?" I joked, but shrunk back into my skin when I saw the truly lethal glare he flashed me in the rearview mirror. ". . . Somebody actually died?"

His fists tightened around the steering wheel as he pulled onto the road. "My father. Mikael."

I remembered the brief things he told me about Mikael. He was an old, mean piece of shit. "He's dead? That's a good thing, ain't it?"

He nodded right away. "Yes, of course, but . . . Stefan told me."

I tried my hardest not to roll my eyes to the car ceiling. "It's Stefan. He's lying. 'Cause it's Stefan, and Stefan likes lying a whole lot. You can't trust 'im."

Somehow, all the anger stewing inside of him seemed to ooze out, and his tense posture relaxed. "While your logic is infallible, sweetheart, I checked with Rebekah. He's daggered." It sounded almost as if he was trying to convince himself, not me.

Klaus, around a week before, finally sat me down and explained that his family didn't die like other people did, not with some special magic knife that he stabbed all of his siblings with. "Would she lie?" I asked slowly and carefully, so he wouldn't flip a damn switch over it. He was just so _touchy_.

"No," he said instantly, then thought it over a moment. "No, I don't believe so. She hates Mikael almost as much as I do. She wouldn't lie, not about that."

Something about that didn't add up real well. I liked Bekah very much, but . . . "Then why didn't she call you first? Why did Stefan do it?" There was a long stretch of silence where he didn't reply, so I continued, "You had to check with Bekah, right? Why didn't she call you first? If she hates him so bad, she'd wanta tell you, wouldn't she?"

A muscle in his jaw twitched. "You know, sweetheart, I ought to give you more credit. You genuinely are more intelligent than the majority of humans I've met in my expansive lifetime."

I perked up at his praise. "So you believe me?"

"I didn't say that. Obviously, I know my sister better than anybody, and far better than you." I slumped back into my seat, where I'd sat straight up before in my questioning. "But I will not underestimate your opinion. In the few weeks I've known you, you do have an uncanny intuition."

In all the books I'd eagerly drank in, I'd never heard that word before. "What does that mean?"

His brow creased. "Intuition?" I nodded. "It means you have good instincts and a solid understanding of the people around you. It's a rare trait, I find. Rebekah is the one who has the flawless intuition of the family, admittedly."

"I miss Bekah," I mumbled.

". . . So do I."

* * *

A few days later, we arrived back in Mystic Falls just in time for some stupid dance that got moved to Tyler the new hybrid's house, thanks to Klaus. He found a quiet, secluded spot in the backyard for me to sit and "stay out of his way while he dominated at beer pong." But it wasn't a party, apparently. It was a funeral for his sort of-dead father. Klaus was weird.

All of his hybrids roamed around the enormous property and some partied along with Klaus. I was completely and utterly bored, since Klaus made me leave Wolverine and Bekah the bear in the truck because he didn't "want his reputation tarnished." He was even meaner around Mystic Falls, I noticed. It had to draw it out of him.

I tried my best to ignore the party, even as Klaus took the stage and made some announcement or another. At the moment, I was certain that I hadn't experienced boredom like this in all my years. Not that I was some wise old sage, since I was eight and all, but really, this party blew. At least for me. All the stupid teenagers seemed to like it well enough.

A pretty, curly-haired brunette strolled up to me. Elena, I remembered from the gym. Stefan's not-dead girlfriend who Klaus smacked around and stole her special doppelgänger blood. Only, one whiff told me her scent was different. It wasn't Elena. They looked the same, but this one was a vampire. An old one, at that. How was that even possible? Oh well, I didn't care too much. At least it was something halfway interesting. "You're the little girl with Klaus," she murmured, standing in front of me. "If you're looking for him, he's with Stefan."

"And you're not Elena," I drawled in my thickest southern accent. Her brown doe eyes widened, and I waved her off. "It's okay. I don't care how you're not Elena or why you look like her. I'm bored." I vaguely remembered her walking in with a blond boy who was also there at the high school the day I first came to Mystic Falls. "Does the boy you're with know you're not Elena?" I asked sweetly. "Does he know you're a vampire, too?"

The girl pulled up a chair, and sat next to me, her expression changing into something equal parts playful and irritated and menacing. "What are you, some kind of werewolf?" Her voice was different from Elena's - more husky. Really, I didn't know how she fooled anyone. "Still, I'll admit. I'm impressed. Let's strike a deal. I only came around since I wanted to see the _elusive_ child he was traveling around with."

I raised my eyebrows, ignoring the last bit since I wasn't entirely sure what "elusive" meant. "What kind of deal?"

The smile she flashed me next was nothing short of sinister. "You be a good little girl and keep your little mouth shut, or I'll kill you. How does that sound?"

Once, the threat might've scared me, but after spending so much time around Klaus, I was hardly fazed. Honestly, she could do a lot better than that. Klaus threatened to kill me before when I picked food off his plate. I was used to it. "What if I bit you first? Then you'd be dead in a few days, and whoever you are, I have a feeling Klaus wouldn't give you his blood. Plus, if you killed me, Klaus would kill you anyway. Sucks to be you."

Smiling nastily, I reached forward to pat her on the head. She glared at me, smacking my hand away, but if I didn't know better, I'd say there was a certain glint of respect in her knowing brown eyes. "What's your name, anyhow?" I asked, unable to bottle up all my curiosity.

She glanced around for listeners, then tweaked an eyebrow, smirking. "Katherine Pierce. And you?"

Wait a damn second, where had I heard that before? Katherine, Katherine, Katherine . . . Oh, right _\- Caroline_! I mentally patted myself on the back. And . . . _Damon_? She found Mikael. Huh. I guess she got around, then. "My name's Grace. Why'd you kill Caroline?" I accused right off the bat.

"To get back at the Salvatores," she replied easily. "She got caught in the crossfire. Oops. But all is fair in love and war."

Somehow, I wanted to punch her in the throat, rip out her intestines through her esophagus, and get away with it. Klaus told me that one. He said it always worked well for him. I didn't want to know the details at the time, but now . . . "No, all's _not_ fair in love and war. That's stupid, and you're stupid. Actually, that's what fuckwits like you say to feel better about hurting innocent people. And no, acting all smug and _superior_ about it doesn't make you better than everyone else, either. It just makes you a bitch."

If that bothered her, she didn't show it, but I caught the mild tremor of annoyance that coursed through her jaw. "Easy for you to say, pipsqueak," she said, but there was something _real_ beneath her tone of indifference. "You haven't gotten on Klaus's bad side like the rest of us, so he hasn't completely ruined your life. He murdered my entire family, including my little sister, who was fourteen years old." Her fists clenched, turning white. "She was as innocent as your little friend Caroline. Yet you're fine and dandy with _Klaus_."

It was easy to see the poetic appeal of how her life turned out, and I had no qualms against telling her. "Klaus killed innocent people that you loved, so you became him, and now kill innocent people that _other_ people love. You _are_ Klaus. He got the last laugh and the best revenge 'cause he turned you into him."

Now, _that_ got to her. She looked about ready to lop my head off my shoulders. Her lips trembled in fury. "And _yet_ ," she spat, "you care about him. How? Why?"

"Why, you want someone to love you back?" I sneered, and her lack of a response showed me the truth. Losing the mocking hardness that I'd built around her, I said with more sincerity, "He cares about me, when sometimes, it seems like no one else does. All you have to do is care, and mean it."

Katherine pursed her lips, and slanted her eyes downward. She'd parted with most of her mean-girl attitude, and appeared almost . . . vulnerable. Not completely, though. She wasn't like to lower her guard around some werewolf kid she just met. "Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt." She breathed out a laugh without humor. "He'll never love me back."

Suddenly feeling bad for her and hating myself for it, I reached for her hand. She blinked, and a whole array of emotions flickered across her chocolate brown eyes. Surprise, annoyance, sadness, and . . . gratitude? "Then you've gotta find someone who'll love you back."

"I can't believe I'm talking about this with Klaus's little minion. You'll probably tell him everything I'm saying." She turned to stone again. It was fascinating to see every emotion flee her expression at her command.

"I promise I won't," I murmured, earnest. "I give you my word."

This time, nostalgia flared in her eyes, and a different kind of sadness. A sweeter kind. "When I was human, I knew someone who said that. Someone all about honor and morals and reputation. I took his word for granted, and I broke his heart. He . . . was someone who I cared about, and meant it, and he loved me back."

"What was his name?" I wondered out loud, and she smiled softly.

"His name was Elijah."

No, she couldn't mean . . . No, that would be too much of a coincidence. Right? But if she knew Klaus, then . . . "Elijah, like Klaus's _brother_ , Elijah?" I asked skeptically.

Katherine nodded slowly. "The very same."

"Well, I'm around Klaus all the time, and if he ever _unkills_ his family, I could give him a message for you."

She scoffed, tossing her head back. "That's ridiculous." I only stared at her, waiting for her to give in. It didn't take long. "Well, although I have a _feeling_ he won't be undaggered any time in the near future, I suppose you could tell him that . . . somewhere, deep inside me, _practically_ _nonexistent_ , I might . . . still care about him." Katherine gracefully stood up then, ready to leave. "Well, I've got to be Elena for a while. See you around, kid." She paused before she left. "Thanks for talking to me. Around here, I don't get the time of day." Katherine headed back to the party.

I couldn't help but wonder what she meant about his family not waking up anytime soon. She knew something, that much was obvious. But _what_? And great, now I was back to being bored. Klaus was entertaining enough when he wasn't all huffy, so I decided to find him.

I easily located Klaus, who was talking with Stefan, and I only caught a certain piece of their conversation. ". . . Seems the Homecoming Queen still walks among the living, which leads me to believe Rebekah isn't here . . . Where is she?"

He was right. I didn't see any sign of Rebekah whatsoever, and one thorough glance over Stefan told me he had something to do with it.

"I have no idea. I thought she was coming with Matt," he lied, and I almost scoffed.

I arrived next to Klaus, and slipped my hand into his, leaning my head against his arm. He patted me on the head in greeting. Meanwhile, Stefan stiffened a bit at the sight of me. "Well, if it isn't the little Werewolf Who Could," he quipped, cold and emotionless as ever. What a dick. For my own amusement, I imagined that _Stefan_ was the person Katherine loved, but didn't love her back. I nearly snorted. As if. Surely she had _some_ standards.

Anger flared inside of my chest. "Well, if isn't my least favorite liar," I countered in the exact same tone, and his lips pulled down into a grimace. "He's lying about Bekah," I warned Klaus, before wandering off again. I didn't want to be roped into a long, dramatic conversation with Stefan involved if I had a way out. Better than boredom, maybe, but Stefan pissed me off and considering I doubted I was allowed to bite him in front of the whole party, I didn't want to spend any more time than I needed to around him.

Muttering to myself, I kept trudging on, away from all the action. I wove through the crowd of dancing bodies, being bumped and shoved around in all directions, when I finally ran straight into Caroline. Finally, a friendly face. She was looking very pretty - beautiful, even. "Oh, hi." Her round blue eyes blinked in surprise. "Grace, right?"

I nodded, pleased that she remembered. "Hi, Caroline." She stepped out of the grooving crowd, beckoning me after her.

Her brow creased with bewilderment, and she searched for someone over my shoulder. Klaus, probably. "I didn't expect to see you here. You're still with Klaus? I kind of figured he would have dropped you at a random orphanage by now."

The short, fuzzy hair on the back of my neck lifted up; I was feeling defensive on Klaus's behalf. "No, he treats me good."

"Well," she corrected and I inwardly rolled my eyes. "Wow. Um, I'm surprised. Glad, though."

I stayed calm, despite the fact that her careless remarks were digging their way under my skin. "Why're you surprised?"

Nervously, she shifted her weight from foot to foot, rubbing her arms. "He's done bad things," she finally clarified, her voice small. "A lot of bad things, and he's hurt a lot of good people. I was surprised that he didn't . . . hurt you, I guess."

Oh. I understood now, and I couldn't be angry at her over that reasoning. "Oh, okay. Just because he did bad things, though, doesn't have to mean he's always a bad person."

Caroline paused at that, and I could see the invisible gears turning in her head. "Yeah . . . I guess you're right, huh? It's hard to get past it, though."

"But not impossible," I retorted, smiling. Hesitantly, she smiled back. Then I remembered my conversation with Katherine. Now, I promised her I wouldn't tell Klaus anything, but she _did_ murder Caroline. That was a pretty shitty thing to do. Caroline deserved to know the truth. "Oh, by the way, Katherine's here."

The blood drained from her face, and her hand found its way to her mouth. "Oh my God. Katherine. What the hell is she _doing_ here?" As horror shadowed across her features, I realized I made the right decision.

"Didn't she kill you with a pillow?" I asked conversationally.

"Yeah, she's a total _bitch_." Then she gasped at herself. "Oh jeez, I shouldn't have said that -"

I reached up to awkwardly pat her on the shoulder, and immediately regretted it. "Hey, a bitch is a bitch. But . . . even bitches have better sides." It wasn't fair to preach that Klaus wasn't all bad, and pretend Katherine wasn't in the same category. Klaus had killed countless Carolines for less reason.

A small, anxious giggle escaped her throat. "You have a point. I - um . . ." A light bulb all but appeared above her head, warm and bright. "I have to tell Tyler! It's his house, after all. Thanks for telling me, Grace." Giving me one last friendly smile, she disappeared into the crowd.

Well, my job was complete. Satisfied with myself, I tried to whistle - and failed - as I continued to roam the property. My old house was a tiny little thing. In fact, I'd never seen houses this big. I didn't understand rich people. What was the point of having so much land when you didn't use most of it? It was only to show off and make other people feel bad about their smaller houses.

Mystic Falls was all right. All my life, my daddy told me that it wasn't the house that made the home, it was the people. Klaus was my home. Rebekah was my home. And if they wanted so badly to stay here, then I could make it work. Klaus had to enroll me in school, though. Sure, I learned a lot from him, but a lot of it was illegal or immoral or just plain wrong.

Man, the trees on this property were _endless._ As I lost myself in thought about how some people managed to earn so much money and why it was so hard for others, a hand shot out of nowhere and covered my mouth. Startled, I screamed against the palm, and it came out muffled and pathetic. It was one of Klaus's hybrids. Damn, I should've learned their names when I had the chance.

I growled against his hand as he carried me further into the wilderness, leaving the party behind. "Sorry, kid," he said. "Mikael wants you." My eyes almost bugged out of my head. _Dead_ Mikael? Bad, abusive father Mikael? The one who supposed to be daggered? "You made yourself too noticeable, enough that he was told about you." He almost sounded apologetic. Almost.

I kicked and struggled the entire way before he dropped me unceremoniously in front of a tall, blond man. He looked like Klaus, which was strange, considering they weren't related. My heart pounded inside my chest and I didn't bother making some smartass remark like all those action heroes in the movies - I booked it and _ran_.

Mikael caught up to me in less than a second, wrenching me backwards, damn near popping my shoulder out of its socket. "Stay still, child," he grumbled, yanking me into his ironclad hold. "You have fire, I see."

I didn't offer much of a response other than twisting around as fast and hard as I could and sinking my teeth right into his jugular. He shouted at the sudden attack, and dropped me onto the dirt as blood pulsed from his open throat wound. I made moves to flee again, scooting backwards. "Don't you dare." He swung out a hand, connecting it with my cheekbone, and I flew backwards into a thick tree trunk as pain exploded all over my face. Stars hopped around me. He was strong, even stronger than Klaus. "No wonder the _boy_ kept you, you're a feral wolf brat."

He said _boy_ with such disgust, and I instantly believed everything Klaus ever said about him. He reached for me again, and I swirled the saliva around in my mouth, spitting right in his eye. "Fuck off, you kid-beatin' piece of horse shit." Black veins stretched over his cheeks as he blinked angrily, then picked me back up, almost crushing my windpipe as he wound an arm around my neck.

"You're making it tempting to kill you before I can use you as leverage, child," he hissed as he stormed through the woods.

Black spots were dancing before my eyes as he passed me to Mindy, who resumed his death grip. "Traitor," I whispered up at her. Even if Mikael probably compelled the lot of them, they shouldn't have made it so _easy_.

"Hello, Niklaus," came from the doorway, where Mikael stood tall and proud. I couldn't see beyond that.

"Hello, Mikael." It was Klaus. "Why don't you come in? Oh, that's right. I forgot you can't." I tried wriggle free, but it was like grappling against stone. There was no winning.

"Or you can come outside if you want."

"Or I could watch my hybrids tear you limb from limb," Klaus taunted, but most of them flocked behind Mikael, all brainwashed zombies at Mikael's beck and call.

"They can't kill me," Mikael pointed out. As Klaus stalled him with all his fancy, flowery words, Mindy shoved me towards Mikael. Stumbling, it was all too simple for him to scoop me up into his arms, positioning his hand back around my throat.

Klaus's stormy blue eyes widened to the size of full moons. Whatever he'd been expecting, this was not it. "Come out and face me, Niklaus," Mikael challenged, tightening his grip around me. "Or she dies."

I was _not_ in the mood to die today, thank you very much, and I was getting sick and tired of having death threats thrown at me left and right, top and bottom.

Klaus hesitated, and his eyelid twitched, before he said coldly, "Go ahead. Kill her."

Klaus had to be bluffing. He _had_ to be bluffing. What was the goddamn point of him murdering my daddy and bringing me along with him if he didn't care whether I lived or died? No, he was testing the waters. I refused to let myself believe otherwise. "Klaus . . ." _Please_ , I added silently. _Please don't let him kill me. I like living._

"If she dies, it will be on you," Mikael said harshly. "I was going to find the doppelgänger, mind you, but I heard from reliable sources that you care more about this one than your hybrids." He forced the breath straight from my lungs as he continued to squeeze his fingers around my throat. "What will it be, Niklaus? You, or the poor, innocent little girl who you've so pathetically befriended?"

Klaus winced, while I bristled. He had no right calling our friendship pathetic. Sure, it was a little _weird_ that a thousand-year-old hybrid was friends with an eight-year-old girl, but that didn't mean Mikael had the right to judge him while he _suffocated_ _me_. "I don't need her," Klaus replied, sounding out each syllable deliberately. I would've gulped if I had full access to my throat. "I just need to be rid of you."

I was starting to feel like this friendship was a little one-sided.

Mikael didn't bother to loosen his grip. "To what end, Niklaus? So you can live forever, with no one at your side? Nobody cares about you anymore, boy! What do you have other than those whose loyalty you forced? No one. _No_ _one_."

Pure, black fury coursed through my veins like venom instead of blood as Klaus's eyes filled with tears. Using a strength I didn't know I had, I ripped his hand off my throat, a crack echoing into the night, and spat, "He has _me_."

Because he did. God, he killed my daddy and _kidnapped_ me, and yet, I was stood happily in his corner. There was no point in lying about it anymore - to anyone or myself. I cared about him. I cared about him a whole lot. Klaus recoiled, honestly stunned by my loyalty.

A low, icy chuckle rumbled inside of Mikael's chest. The pain didn't bother him in the slightest, and he replaced his hand around my throat. It might as well have been a steel manacle, because there was no taking it off this time. "Well, well, well. It appears you have _one_ person, Niklaus, a little girl who cares for you and it's so painfully obvious you care for back." Klaus's lips trembled, but he didn't deny it. "Why torture yourself, _boy_? Step across the doorway. You can still save her."

Klaus's hands curled up into shaking fists by his side. "I'm calling your bluff, _Father_. Kill her." My heart wrenched inside of my chest. Did I expect anything different? He was a thousand years old. There was a reason he survived so long, and it wasn't saving insignificant little girls from monsters.

Mikael scoffed. "Come outside and face me, you little coward. And I won't have to." But he wanted to, didn't he? He hated Klaus, and since I admitted I cared about him, he had to hate me too. He would kill me anyway, just to hurt Klaus.

"Don't do it, Klaus!" I shouted, before Mikael slapped his palm onto my mouth.

Klaus stared at me for a long, charged moment before snarling back, "My whole life you've underestimated me. If you kill her, you lose your leverage. So go ahead. Go on." He flourished a hand at me, offering me up to die. "Kill her. Come on, old man. Kill her. _Kill her!_ "

Despite myself, tears welled up in my eyes and rolled down my still aching cheeks from when Mikael had slapped me silly. I didn't want to die. I wasn't brave like all those heroes in the books I loved so much. No, I was scared, and I _didn't want to die_.

Mikael laughed again, and the sound was _inhuman_. I didn't care how bad Klaus was, or had the potential to be. This man was horrible. Unforgivably horrible. "Your impulse, Niklaus. It has and forever will be the one thing that keeps you from truly being great. It appears you found a reprieve from your loneliness, in the form of an _innocent_ little girl. This is your fault."

Something sharp pierced my back, and agony bloomed in its wake. Gasping at the sudden impact, my knees buckled beneath me, and in a last ditch effort, I dove inside the house. Mikael barked out another laugh as Klaus drew in a sharp breath, shocked. "Sweetheart," he whispered, frantically pawing at my back. "I-I'll fix this -"

A dark figure rushed behind Klaus, hauled him around and staked him in the back as he leaned over me. I screamed as Klaus went down, even as I continued to bleed out on the fancy tiles.

I was going to die. The wound was fatal. Even my werewolf healing wasn't enough to save me. In the distance, I heard the faintest whisper beckon to me. " _Gracie_ . . ." It was my daddy, hovering at the end of the hall in all his plaid glory. " _Gracie, come home . . ._ "

A brunette woman blurred in the doorway, and as I faded away, I heard Mikael utter, "Katherine," as the woman displayed two grenades.

"Baboom," she muttered, throwing them at Klaus's hybrids, who all collapsed backwards.

I wrenched my neck around as Klaus and the dark figure - Damon, I realized - continued to wrestle on the ground. "Klaus, no, please," I choked out, beginning to drift off. "Klaus . . ."

" _Gracie, Daddy's here. You're safe now. Come home._ "

Darkness covered my eyes like a cloak and the pain floated away. That meant I was near death. Daddy reached for my hand, cradling it to his chest. " _Baby, come home."_

Motion stirred me awake as a wrist was shoved against my lips, and salty, metallic liquid dripped into my mouth as the knife was removed from my back. My eyelids fluttered open, and I gasped as Stefan kneeled over me with surprisingly soft green eyes. "You don't deserve to die," he murmured.

In the split second it took for Stefan to heal me, Klaus lunged at Mikael with the stake Damon used on him. A strangled scream lurched free from Mikael as he burst into flames. Soon enough, he was dead. Good damn riddance.

"What the hell did you do?" Damon demanded, dumbfounded at Stefan. And just like that, I discovered that all of this was a planned attempt to kill Klaus, nothing more, and Damon Salvatore rose to #1 on my hit list. He glanced over at me, and I made my eyes flash amber, curling up my lip into a snarl. He looked away.

Klaus returned to the house with a spring in his step, even with the tear stains on his cheeks. "He's earned his freedom," he announced. "Saving me, and saving the child is more than enough, I think." He reached down for Stefan, un-compelling him. "Thank you, my friend. You no longer have to do as I say. You're free."

* * *

Everything was a blur after that. Both Damon and Stefan left, and Klaus scooped me up into a bridal hold, leaving the party after having Mikael's charred corpse taken care of. I was glad he was dead. My eyelids drooped, and I rested my head on his chest, lulled by his unnatural heartbeat. _Lub-lub . . . lub-lub . . . lub-lub._

Klaus walked for a long time. I wasn't sure where he was headed, but I was too tired to care. There was a heavy silence between us that neither of us wanted to burst open. "Rebekah, where are you?" I jumped in his arms, then realized he was on the phone. "Pick up the phone, darling. Daddy is dead. It's time for a family reunion. Gracie misses you."

He missed her too. Why didn't he say so? I frowned as he switched to another call, readjusting me in his arms as he positioned the phone between his ear and shoulder. "Stefan! Miss me already?"

"I'm just calling to thank you for my freedom," Stefan said on the other end. There was something off with him. He had something up his sleeve. And based on his tone, it might've been an ace.

"Oh, I like to believe I'm a man of my word, more or less." Klaus's transport truck became visible as he trudged on.

"Thing is, it came at too high of a price," Stefan bit back. "You took everything from me, Klaus." Uh oh, I _knew_ it. He was never on Klaus's side, no matter how often he said otherwise.

Klaus sighed. "Let bygones be bygones, trust me. Resentment gets old." Klaus approached the truck, and an odd, cold feeling twisted up my insides. Something was wrong. Stefan did something bad.

"You know what never gets old? Revenge." Klaus opened up the truck, and nothing was inside. He set me onto my feet as his hands began to quiver with rage. Stefan took his family.

My intuition - now that I knew what it meant - sparked inside of me. Stefan had Rebekah. Of course he did. She didn't show up to the party, and Stefan was lying about her. Not only did he have the rest of the family, but he had _Rebekah_.

Not Rebekah. Anger boiled inside of me. Rebekah was kind to me, and she didn't deserve to be daggered. She deserved to _live_. The only reason I was happy to return to Mystic Falls was _her_. I made a promise to myself, then. I would get Rebekah back, if it was the last thing I did. She didn't deserve to be dead for another second.

"No."

"What's the matter, Klaus? Missing something?" I could hear the sneer in his voice. And to think I was thankful that he saved my life. In my heart, I knew that Klaus would have if Stefan didn't, but then he wouldn't have been able to kill Mikael.

"What are you doing?" Klaus growled.

"Just enjoying my freedom."

"I will kill you and everyone you've ever met!" Klaus roared, causing me to flinch away from him. So _this_ was the Klaus everyone was so afraid of. I didn't like this Klaus very much.

"You do that, and you will never see your family again. I wonder, Klaus, as someone who has been one step ahead for a thousand years . . . are you prepared for this? Say hi to Grace for me." He hung up, and Klaus almost crushed the phone inside of his fist.

My brow creased in confusion. Why did he mention me? What did he have planned? This couldn't be it, right? Or was it? Whatever his schemes were, it gave me an idea - a pretty good one if I said so myself. One that couldn't involve Klaus in any way.

It all panned out when Klaus found a hotel room, and he drank himself to oblivion in the other bed with cheap booze he compelled from a liquor store. Lights out. The man was miserable. I was fairly sure he loved Rebekah the most of all his family, though, and I could get her back for him.

Carefully, I plucked his cell phone from the bedside table, and slipped out of the hotel room, scrolling through his contacts and finding Stefan.

He answered on the third ring. "I'm not giving them back, Klaus. But I'd be happy to hear you beg for them."

His smarmy tone annoyed me and I continued to pad down the carpeted hall. "I'm not Klaus."

There was a long pause on the other end. "Does Klaus know you have his phone?"

I rolled my eyes to the hallway ceiling. "What do you think?"

". . . Right. Why did you call me? To thank me for saving you?"

"Remember when you killed my daddy?" There was another long stretch of silence. "I do. We're even. I'm calling you 'cause I want you to give Rebekah back."

". . . What makes you think we have Rebekah?"

I slumped against the nearest wall, pulling my knees into my chest. "I'm not an idiot, Stefan."

"I didn't dagger her."

A cold, wry smile tugged at my lips. "I never said _you_ did, but is she daggered?" He didn't reply. "That's what I thought. I'm willing to neg - negt - nego -"

"Negotiate?" He sounded amused. "And what could you possibly have to offer for Klaus's only sister?"

I breathed in deeply. "Me."

I'd been thinking it over ever since I realized Rebekah was gone and Klaus was compelling himself alcohol. She was Klaus's favorite person in the whole wide world, and he loved her. If Klaus loved me anywhere _near_ the degree he loved her, he would've saved me from Mikael. He would have had me drink _his_ blood, and not Stefan's, no matter if Mikael got away or not.

But I cared a lot about Klaus. I might've even loved him. So, if he wasn't willing to be brave or selfless, I was. I wasn't stupid enough to think he wouldn't choose Rebekah over me in a heartbeat, but he cared enough about me that Stefan would consider the deal.

Rebekah deserved to live.

Stefan burst into mean, cruel laughter on the other end. "You seriously think I'm going to undagger Rebekah for the likes of _you_? Someone thinks too highly of herself. Keep dreaming, kiddo."

Well, shit. Huffing, I ground my teeth together, then perked up. Maybe he wouldn't agree to the deal, but at the very least, I could get information. He was cocky. And arrogant people _loved_ talking about how great their plans were. It made them sloppy. "And why not?" I snapped, faking anger.

He was still chuckling away. "Because it would put Elena in danger."

Bingo. An evil smile crept across my face, and I wiggled in excitement at the new information I received. _Elena_ stabbed Rebekah. Klaus wouldn't be too happy about that, now would he? "I thought you didn't care about her, or anyone," I said, still going along with the ruse.

"I don't. All I care about is hurting Klaus."

"That sounds like a sad life," I observed.

"Klaus _ruined_ my life. Hell, he ruined _yours_. Why are you still on his bandwagon?"

"Because I wanna live. And if you keep doing this, you won't. Bye bye, Stefan," I sang, ending the call with a quick press of a button. I smirked to myself, curling in my toes. Idiot. A brand new plan began to unfold in my mind. Elena daggered Rebekah, and I wanted to kill Damon. Damon cared about Elena, evidenced by how he almost got killed by Klaus trying to reach her in the hospital. So, if I wanted to hurt Damon, then Elena was the weak link.

 _Interesting_ , I thought as I skipped back to the hotel room.

Back in the room, I kicked the door shut behind me and the ever wary Klaus was roused from his sleep. His squinted eyes found me and his defensive posture relaxed. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"Elena daggered Rebekah," I informed him, and his expression darkened. "I called Stefan. He accidentally said so."

A devious grin played at his lips. "Is that so? Then it's only fair to hurt her brother, since she hurt my sister." I grinned, too. If Elena had any sort of hold over Damon, then hurting her brother might get us Rebekah back.

"And we'll get Bekah back," I finished.

"You are positively diabolical for a child. I like it. Now go to bed, sweetheart, we have a long day tomorrow."

I drifted off to sleep with a smile on my face. Elena wouldn't know what hit her.

 **A/N: Grace is picking up on Klaus' debauchery, it seems. For anyone who thought Stefan was being uncharacteristically stupid, my response essentially is that people underestimate kids. People say stuff around kids that they might not ordinarily say around their peers, because they can. Plus, Stefan is still riding his high of deceiving Klaus. Success can make you sloppy.**

 **Anyway, the plot with Jeremy, Alaric, and the car will unfold like it did in the show, but it will be caused by different reasons (it'll make sense soon). So, what'd you guys think? Like it, love it, hate it? Let me know! :D**


	6. Small Town Life

**A/N: Man, I've had so many nerd attacks 'cause of you guys. I swear, every time I see a new follow or review, I flip. You guys are the most gourmet kind of awesome sauce. Thank you so much. Today was my first day of junior year DX so I'll try to keep a good schedule, but it might be a bit more sparse. I'll try my best!**

 **Anyway, before I take up too much time, there's an instance of abuse at the end of the chapter (Klaus sucks at parenting) that'll lead to the next chapter's events. This chapter's a bit short, but the next one has Caroline and the one after has Elijah. Please read, review, and enjoy! Thank you again. :D**

 **Disclaimer: I'm not Julie Plec but I do own Grace!**

 **Chapter 6: Small Town Life**

Klaus entered the Mystic Grill, which seemed to be Mystic Falls' only restaurant, with me by his side. He was seeking out Elena and Damon, choosing to give them a head's up before he had her brother murdered. All I wanted to do was bite Damon. But if hurting Elena would hurt Damon, I was game.

The happy couple was playing darts, and an ugly memory invaded my mind, of Stefan throwing wolfsbane darts into my daddy. Man, I hated Stefan. Stefan was next. What was Stefan's not-dead girlfriend doing cozying up to his brother anyhow? Elena had some seriously bad taste in men. "Don't mind me," Klaus interrupted, startling the two of them.

"Klaus," Elena breathed. Her hair was straight, unlike Katherine's. Even though she threatened to kill me, I decided that I liked Katherine better in a strange way. She was more my style. Was she a good person? No, but neither was Klaus, and I cared about that grumpy murderous old bastard all the same. My principles were all out of whack. She wasn't a good person, but she was _good people_ , if that made any sort of sense.

Elena's big, doe eyes fell to me. "Grace?"

Damon stepped in front of her, and I fantasized about sinking my teeth into his throat, and spitting it back into his face. If only there were no people around, then nothing could stop me . . . I sighed dreamily. "You gonna do this in the Grill? In front of everyone? In front of your _only friend_?" He gestured toward me, and it took everything in me not to rip his hand straight off and tap dance on top of it. What an asshole. So what if I was Klaus's only friend? That wasn't a _bad_ thing. "It's a little beneath you, don't you think?"

"Better than you," I said innocently, drawing away everyone's attention. "At least he has _one_ friend."

Damon scowled down at me. "Hey, I have friends. Ergo, I'm with one right now." He patted Elena on the shoulder.

"No, you're trying to steal your brother's not-dead girlfriend," I sing-songed, and Klaus chuckled loudly as Elena pulled a disgruntled face. "There's a difference. Can't you find your own girl, or do you need Stefan's leftovers?" I smiled serenely, pleased with myself as Elena's mouth dropped open in outrage.

Damon twitched in anger as Klaus continued to laugh, the noise booming across the crowded restaurant. "Ouch. I do believe you might need ice for that, mate," he chortled. "But, you have to admit, there's some truth there. You're not fooling anyone."

Damon sucked in his lips, and Elena clung onto his arm, as if to calm him down. "I'm surprised the two of you stuck around town since Papa Original's now six feet under. What's left, Klaus, for you and your trusty little sidekick? Do you have some flowers to stomp on? Puppies to kick?"

"Vampires to kill," I offered, and Damon had to do a double take, recoiling with a sharp grimace.

"My sister seems to be missing," Klaus added before either brunette had a chance to chime in. Cautiously, I watched Elena's face for any reaction. Her pretty features tightened ever so slightly. "Need to sort that out. Do you . . . happen to know anything about that?"

He was giving them a chance to admit what we already knew. I tuned in listening to Elena's heart and heard it stutter.

"Cute bombshell, psycho," Damon mused, and I fought the urge to punch him in his stupid throat again. Y'know, I wasn't so violent before I met Klaus. Sure, I killed my uncle and got in a lot of fights and all, but never with _vampires_. "Shouldn't be too hard to find."

"Is Elena as good of a liar as you?" I asked Damon, who then narrowed his icy chips of eyes. Elena's heart skipped another beat, and I pointed at my ears. "Maybe," I addressed to her, "you shouldn't cover up crap when you hang out with the supernatural all the time. We can hear it. Where's Rebekah?"

Klaus tapped me on the top of my skull, a quick warning for me to hold back and let him do the talking. "Why don't you find us a spot at the bar, go use those charms of yours on the wait staff?" That was a dismissal if I'd ever heard one. I sneered at Damon as I walked by, and his lips parted in surprise at my obvious distaste for him.

I found a stool two seats away from a handsome, chestnut-haired man hovered over a stack of papers. I drummed my fingers on the bar counter until a bartender came around and I said solemnly, "Hello, yes, I'll have one alcohol, please."

All of a sudden, the man near me snorted, coughing out a laugh into his cupped hand, and I sent him the death glare of a century. Shaking her head at me, the bartender went to go serve someone else. What was the big deal? "What's so funny?"

His friendly brown eyes twinkled with humor. "Ah, nothing, don't worry about it."

I knitted my eyebrows together, biting my lip. He was making fun of me in his head, I _knew_ he was. Tasting the air, I discovered he was human. I could take him if I really wanted to. "It's not for me. It's for my friend, Klaus." His smile melted away like ice cream on a hot summer afternoon. Did everyone know Klaus around here? I knew he had a reputation and all, but how many people did he hurt during his reign of terror? I wasn't so sure I wanted to know. "I guess Klaus isn't your friend."

"Damon told me about you," he said with a sheepish glance over his shoulder. "That Klaus had a little wolf kid traveling with him."

 _Son of a -_ "I'm not a little kid," I replied through clenched teeth. Adults were so dumb sometimes. They didn't understand anything. So clueless. "I'm _eight_."

He nodded in mock seriousness. "Of course. Silly me." Now he was _really_ making fun of me. "My name's Alaric."

Where had I heard that name before? It was a stupid name, and I vaguely remembered questioning it before. Oh, it was from Caroline! All the juicy gossip came from her. "So you're an Alaric," I blurted out before I could stop myself, and Alaric visibly had to bite down on his bottom lip to keep from laughing again. "Caroline told me about something called _Alaric_. I didn't know you were a person until now."

"I heard about you from multiple sources," he admitted. "Grace, right? You're kind of a big floating question mark, kiddo."

I sighed dramatically, laying my head down on the sticky bar counter, and Alaric chuckled again. "Is it 'cause I tried to kill Stefan that _one_ _time_ and he blabbed?" It was only fair, he'd been torturing my daddy! Alaric cocked his head to the side, bewildered, and I quickly adjusted my story, lifting my head back up. "Actually, no I didn't. I, um . . . I bit down real hard and his arm ran into my teeth."

Alaric looked like he was going to say something of a mildly scolding nature, then changed his mind at the last minute. "Understandable. It happens to the best of us. It's really hard, by the way."

I stared at him. "What's really hard?"

He cracked another smile. "Uh, you said _real hard_. It's really hard."

Huffing, I propped my chin onto my folded arms. "Caroline does the same thing," I complained. "It's like every time I open my mouth the damn language police come drivin' by with all them sirens. It ain't my fault I'm from the South."

Alaric twitched, as if it killed him not to say anything, and I glowered at him. He didn't correct me this time. "You said something about Damon before. Are you friends with him?"

It took him a few moments, but he eventually nodded. "Yeah, most of the time. And I'm Elena and Jeremy's guardian, sort of. Klaus killed their aunt, my girlfriend, so I watch over them now." A deep, weary grief crept across his kind features.

Jeremy. Oh, _no_. Klaus was planning on hurting him. Killing him, probably. And I all but planted the idea in his head. Whoever this Alaric character was, though, he was nice and I liked him well enough. Somehow I knew that if Jeremy was hurt, he would be hurt. He already lost his girlfriend because of Klaus. "Alaric," I whispered. "Watch over Jeremy real close - _really_ close, all right?"

He frowned. "Why?"

I couldn't give away Klaus's entire plan - he'd rake me over the coals. But I had to tell him _something_. "Just do it, okay? I think something's gonna happen to him." Sadly, I looked deeply into his warm, now concerned brown eyes. "Tell Elena to give Rebekah back, and he'll be safe."

* * *

Elena gave Rebekah back after her little brother was almost plowed down by a car driven by Tony the hybrid. Klaus told me in passing that Alaric was hit instead, and I almost puked up my lunch. Alaric listened to me then, about watching over Jeremy. He listened all right. And it would've ended him permanently, too, if he hadn't had some nifty magic ring that brought him back to life.

Why did everyone I know have some way of avoiding death? I guess it didn't matter, since I was happy Alaric was alive, but it was awful strange. _Awfully_ strange. Dammit, Alaric got into my head!

Klaus was building a home - a mansion, more like, that I hadn't known about until now because he wanted it to be a surprise. And he wanted me to stay with him. My bedroom was already fairly intact, and had a small twin bed inside. I suppose I didn't mind playing rich for a while. Plus, Klaus had a good artistic eye, and it showed. Living the rich life could do me some good, anyhow. I'd been real curious about it - _really curious_. Aw hell, this was ruining my childhood.

Klaus had moved Rebekah onto a table, and I sat alone with her, while he "made arrangements." Whatever that meant. He was super secretive - superly - wait, _no_ , I was right the first time, goddammit. Anyway, he didn't tell me jack shit.

"I miss you, Bekah," I murmured, petting her beautiful blonde curls. She was a dressed in a tight, red Homecoming dress. That hurt my southern heart. She never even got to go. "You'll wake up soon, though, and everything will be all right." I wanted her to come back and spend time with me and call me "little love" again.

Klaus entered the room, and I could immediately tell he was on edge. "Sweetheart, go upstairs. I want a moment alone with my sister. It's far past your bedtime. You can see Rebekah in the morning." Normally, I'd protest, but she was going to wake up soon anyway so I scampered off.

Then, quiet as a mouse, I moved as close as I dared to eavesdrop. There was something off about him. He was up to something. What, I didn't know, but I wanted to find out.

"Here we are, Rebekah. Home sweet home. Only took a thousand years . . . And to think I was counting on being here with me. Grace wants you back, too. She's been drawing you pictures for weeks now. I think you would like them. She's a good little artist. But . . . that's all ruined now, isn't it?"

It wasn't ruined! Why was it ruined? Unless . . . no, he wouldn't. No. But he would, wouldn't he? He was going to stab her again. "I'm so sorry." My chest tightened as I fought for breath. No, no, _no_. "Sister . . . we'll meet again one day."

There was an unmistakable _squelching_ sound of metal piercing flesh, and I booked it, as silent as possible. I hurried up the grand staircase and into my unfinished bedroom, clicking off the light and diving into the bed, hugging Bekah the bear to my chest as angry tears burned in my eyes.

God, why would he _do_ that? He missed her like I did, he even _told_ me so! And he wasn't lying then. He wouldn't, not about that. So _why_ would he kill her? Why did he have to be so _horrible_? Whenever I forgave him for _anything_ , he always ruined it by doing something worse. And this was the worst of the worst.

I had to save Rebekah. Had to save Bekah from _him_. But to do that, I had to get Klaus out of the picture for as long as it took for her to wake up. He was a light sleeper, when he slept at all. And he had no reason to leave me alone in the mansion the next day with all the construction going on.

A magnificent idea flashed through my mind. If Klaus temporarily died, I could free Rebekah. All I had to do was kill a thousand-year-old hybrid. Great.

I couldn't break his neck. He would wake up too soon, like Stefan did constantly on my first trip to Mystic Falls. Klaus went on and on about how invincible he was. I pieced it all together, revisiting countless conversations in my head. He told me before, hadn't he? There was only one thing that could _really_ kill someone in his family. The stake that Mikael had. The stake that Damon tried to use on _him_.

But I didn't want to end his life permanently. Only for a little while. If there was only one kind of stake that could _destroy_ him, that meant any other sort of wood would only wound him, and put him down for as long as I needed to hide Bekah's dagger, but no longer.

I had to stake Klaus.

I shimmied out from my sheets, and using all my werewolf strength, snapped off a leg of the cherry desk chair Klaus had placed inside my bedroom. When I heard footsteps, I frantically hid it under my pillow and snuggled back underneath my blankets. Not a second later, Klaus appeared in my doorway. "I can't sleep," I pretended to whine. "I wanna see Bekah."

"Bekah is out feeding," he lied right to my face, leaning against my doorway. What was he planning to tell me tomorrow, then? That she skipped town without saying goodbye? I couldn't believe he'd break my heart like that to cover his own stupid hybrid ass.

"Aren't you worried she'll kill Elena?" I asked innocently.

His expression darkened; if I didn't know better, it would be at the thought of his walking blood bag being taken away, but it was only because I was asking too many questions for his liking. It would be easier for him if I just accepted his lies with no problems. Not all that likely. "Not if she wants another dagger in her heart." He stepped inside the bedroom, shifty-eyed. "Tomorrow you and I will continue to decorate the manor. How do you feel about that?"

My heart skipped a beat as he seated himself on the edge of my bed. I clutched onto the makeshift stake. "I dunno."

Klaus set his jaw, displeased with my answer. "You don't know? And why not? It's not like you have much of a social life. You're eight years old. Do you suddenly have plans I'm not awa-"

I didn't wait for him to finish talking before I lunged with the table leg. For all I knew, he could go on forever. Once he got all fired up, I wouldn't put it past him. I'd only gotten the tip of it rammed against his chest before he knocked it out of my hand, flipping me onto my back with a hand wrapped mercilessly around my throat. Well, shit.

His expression of betrayal sent a lance of hurt through me. "And what is this?" He reached for the stake, waving it around like a magic wand as he pinned me to the mattress. "An assassination attempt?!"

Well, that didn't work. "I heard you kill Bekah again!" I managed to croak despite his hand all but choking the life out of me. "You're a _liar_!" I started to hack and cough.

His lips curled back into a snarl, but he loosened his grip so I could breathe. "And you're a traitor!"

Furious, hot tears welled up in my eyes. "I called Stefan last night, not for information, so I could have Bekah traded for me!" His mouth pried open in shock, and he let go of my neck altogether. "He wouldn't go along with it, so I learned about Elena instead. Still, to get Bekah back. And then we _got_ Bekah back, and you're the only person still in my way!" I finished my accusations with a scream of frustration, and his eyes flashed amber.

"So you decided to take me out," he summarized coldly. "After everything I've done for you."

For the first time in weeks, I let my fury boil over and spill onto him. "More like after everything you've done _to_ me!" I shouted at him, the bitter tears spilling down my cheeks. "Caroline was right. You _are_ a bad person."

A muscle in his jaw clenched tight. "You killed Alaric's girlfriend," I continued, raging on and listing all of his wrongs, remembering what Alaric said at the bar. "You killed Stefan's girlfriend in some stupid sacrifice, without realizing she'd come back to life. You killed Tyler and made him a hybrid without asking him - no, you did that to _all_ of them! You killed your entire family, and you just killed Bekah _again_! But worst of all," heat flared behind my eyes, making them glint yellow in my bedside mirror, "you killed my daddy! You're stronger than all of us, and you _bully_ people just 'cause you can! Your father was right. You _are_ a coward."

In one swift movement, Klaus backhanded me across the face with a strangled shout of his own rage. Pain bloomed across my cheek as the skin split open, blood trickling down, and I collapsed back onto the mattress, stunned. Klaus's eyes were as wide as full moons, and his gaze drew back and forth between his trembling hand and my face. His mouth opened and closed over and over again, speechless.

"You said you'd never hit me again," I whispered. "You gave me your word. You're nothing but a _liar_."

Klaus reached out for me, and I flinched away. He acted like I slapped _him_. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean -"

"Get out," I ground out, my cheek stinging too much for me to last much longer before bursting into sobs. I didn't want to do that in front of him, show weakness. "Get out! I hate you!"

Klaus used his vampire speed to blur out of the room and down the hall, shutting the door behind him. Now that I was by myself, I bawled my eyes out, even though the mark would heal within minutes. Not only was Bekah gone until he changed his mind, but I was stuck with him.

As I cried myself to sleep, I never felt so alone before in my entire life.

 **A/N: Oh Klaus, you can't control yourself, can you? He better make up for that. Mikael's a bit of a touchy subject for him, it seems. He doesn't take well to "betrayal" either. What'd you think? Grace is beginning to love Klaus and vice versa. Will this unravel or eventually strengthen their relationship?**


	7. Sweet Caroline

**A/N: I forgot to mention this last time, but I topped a hundred follows and omigaaaaaawwwrrddd that's never happened to me before! Ahhhhhhhh, thank you all so much! You guys absolutely rock. To those who have reviewed last chapter, a special thanks. I agree, Klaus is a prick. He'll learn, though. As baby Hope will not be in this story, he'll learn to be a father with Grace.**

 **This chapter begins the blossom of Klaroline, with her eighteenth birthday occurring as mostly canon, but Grace's influence will start. Anyway, please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks so much :).**

 **P.S. If any of you have been affected by Hurricane Harvey, I offer my deepest condolences and my heart goes out to all of you and your loved ones. Stay safe out there.**

 **Chapter 7: Sweet Caroline**

I stayed locked inside my bedroom as Stefan chopped Mindy's head off downstairs, wincing at the soft _thud_ as her head connected with the ground. Stefan wanted Klaus to get rid of all his hybrids. Personally, so did I, but that didn't mean I was planning to go around and knock heads off. Any time I spent with her was her restraining me for Mikael, though, so I didn't mourn her much. I knew for a fact that she'd been one of Klaus' favorites, though. He'd be sad. Or angry, more like. He would lash out, so I planned to stay out of his ugly path.

The bruise and cut on my face had long since healed. There was blood on my pillow from where I'd pressed my cheek against it, sobbing, though. That was a good thing, I decided. I needed to remember what Klaus was capable of. I needed to remember that Klaus's word came with a grain of salt. I needed to remember that Klaus was a liar.

I almost turned into a giant green rage monster when I heard Klaus and Tyler's conversation - Klaus wanted Tyler to bite Caroline and kill her. Even though Tyler denied it, I'd seen the sire bond magic with my own eyes. He would do it anyway. He couldn't help himself, and Klaus knew that full well.

Hatred bloomed inside of me. I _liked_ Caroline, and now he was going to have her killed just like he murdered Rebekah. And why? What was the point? To get back at _Stefan_. It all came down to Stefan. If Klaus really wanted to get back at him, all he had to do was end him, or let _me_ bite him. Not involve people who had nothing to do with it, like Caroline. Caroline was good, and she didn't deserve to be hurt, or worse, killed.

A light knock rapped against my door, and I slanted an unimpressed glare over towards him as he pried it open. "Hello, sweetheart," he greeted, sounding unusually friendly. "I'm going out to a Mystic Falls founders' event. I know how much you love being included in the thick of action. Join me, won't you?"

Aw man, he was right, I loved being a part of the action. But I refused to go _anywhere_ with him. I was a goddamn delight, and he didn't get to have me around whenever he felt like it. "No thanks, I'm fine here, with all the dying hybrids and construction workers," I said coolly, turning my back to him. He didn't leave for what felt like a long time. "Don't you have lives to mess up?" I eventually snapped, wanting him to go away.

A sharp sigh pierced the silence behind me, and I twisted around only to see empty air where Klaus once stood. He didn't bother to change my mind. At least he knew me that well. I felt a little bad for hurting his feelings the night before, but he _hit_ me. He _promised_ me he wouldn't do it again, and it only took him a few weeks to break his promise. Yeah, I pissed him off, but he kept me around knowing _full well_ how much I pissed him off on a regular basis. So, screw him.

I wanted to hate him. Really, I did. I wanted to hate him so badly. But no matter how hard I tried to stir up every negative, warped emotion in my heart, I just couldn't do it. Still, he didn't have to know that quite yet. If he wanted my forgiveness then he had to damn well work for it, and inviting me to some dumb founders' event for some dumb town I didn't care about wasn't the way to do it.

I stayed in the bedroom for as long as I dared, coloring and drawing for hours upon hours until I couldn't stand it anymore, and the sun had lowered down the sky. It was evening time, not quite dusk. My hand was cramped and aching, and I hadn't touched the grilled cheese sandwich one of Klaus's hybrids brought me. My stomach rumbled and I hastily signed the pictures. They were for Bekah.

Klaus had been right. I did like my outings, but this time, it was going to be on my own. I didn't need him. No, sir. Not one bit. I was an independent eight-year-old woman who didn't need no man - or stupid hybrid with anger issues.

I yanked on a pair of jeans with fake plastic jewels all over the pockets, and a navy blue ruffled shirt that Bekah chose specially for me. She said it matched my eyes. Searching for my hairbrush, I ran it through my tangles and knots until the waist-length strands shone like molten gold.

And then, I opened up the window, and swung a leg over the edge. This was a very bad idea, considering Klaus's house was _still being built_ , but what was I supposed to do, walk out the front door? Not with his hybrids all over the damn place. If I fell and broke a leg or two, I'd heal quick anyway. I crawled onto the roof, and started shimmying my way down, avoiding the weaker wood beams. Thank God I climbed so many trees when I was little. This wasn't _that_ different, right? Wrong. "Oh, shit," I swore as my shoelace caught itself on a crooked nail, and I lost my grip on the roof edge I'd been clutching onto for dear life. "Uh oh."

Somehow, I managed to flip upside down and the shoe wrenched to the side. Apparently, I hadn't tied my shoes tight enough, because I slipped right out of it and torpedoed down the two stories it took for me to crash land onto the concrete driveway. " _Fuck me_ ," I groaned as my wrists shattered beneath me, breaking the fall. I learned that phrase from Daddy when he thought I wasn't listening. It felt appropriate, even though I wasn't sure what it meant.

I guess I didn't make too much noise, because as I waited impatiently for my hands to heal, no hybrids came running after me. Maybe I was lucky, and they were asleep, or drinking, or otherwise busy. The construction was wrapping up for the day - maybe that was enough to cover the sound of a little feral wolf girl falling from her window.

As the sky darkened, the little bones in my wrists popped back into place one at a time, and I'd be a screaming mess if I wasn't so used to the pain of breaking bones. When it happens once a month, you get used to it. In fact, I was a little proud of myself as I managed to walk it off once my wrists clicked back to normal.

I didn't think I was getting that shoe back, though. It dangled from the roof in all its red Converse glory. Hopefully, Klaus would never notice. That'd be a hard one to explain.

Klaus's driveway seemed to be miles long as I hobbled down to the main road, nighttime blanketing all around me. Dirt and plant matter and short twigs clung to my thin purple sock. For the first time since I came back, I was considering finding a bus and hightailing it out of Mystic Falls. For the time being, Bekah was dead and Klaus was being meaner than usual. Yet, I had nowhere to go. And worse, nobody to go _to_.

Maybe I could run into Damon, and bite him. That'd be a nice way to finish off my day. After all, he was still at the top of my hit list. But on the other hand, he wanted to kill Klaus because of all that bad shit Klaus did, so maybe it wasn't too fair to blame him. Then again, I didn't consider myself a very fair person, and well, I didn't like Damon. Not one bit. I needed to get my anger out _somehow_.

Stefan. I'd bite _Stefan_. I nodded, satisfied with my choice. That way, I didn't have to feel the slightest bit guilty. Although, he did save my life. But he _also_ killed my daddy and stole Klaus's family. _Hmmmm._ Maybe killing anyone would be bad. Even if they were vampires and murderers and worst of all, annoying.

I broke into an abrupt run, charging down the rest of the driveway and into the dark woods, using my superior werewolf speed to make record time as I reached the first layer of trees. Already bored, I sank my nails into the nearest tree trunk, wriggling my way up the rough material. I sat on the lowest steady branch, and swung my legs back and forth.

Now I sort of wished I'd joined Klaus, for lack of something better to do. But I hadn't forgiven him yet, either. Bundled energy built inside of me like a tightening elastic band. I wanted to do _something_. I never thought I'd miss school, but here I was. On a whim, I made a flying leap for the next tree over, grasping onto a thick, sturdy branch only to use my momentum to hurtle myself toward another tree. Soon enough, I was swinging from branch to branch like a spider monkey, hooting and hollering as I went.

It was times like these where I loved being a werewolf. Human kids would've fallen and gotten themselves killed a half mile back, but I was still going strong, no worse for wear. Not even the ache of exhaustion filled my bones. I was charged, excited, and most importantly, _alive_.

A high-pitched, feminine screech echoed all over the woods and a frantic male voice followed it, stopping me in my tracks. Curious, I jumped all the way to the earthy forest floor, feeling shock waves tremor up and down my legs as I absorbed the impact. I squeezed my eyes shut and listened, locating the direction of the voices. Once I found them, I took off.

A blur of dark hair sped past me, too fast for me to make out his face. But when I saw a blonde girl slumped over on the ground, blood oozing out of her neck, I put two and two together.

Klaus. His sire bond. Tyler bit Caroline. Aw, hell.

"Caroline!" I shouted, skidding through the dirt and roots and dead leaves to her side, dirtying up my new jeans. I didn't bother to ask if she was okay. 'Cause she wasn't, and I'd be an idiot for even trying.

Her eyelashes fluttered as the blood slowly began to drain from her face. ". . . Grace, is that you?"

I tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "Yeah, it's me, and you're gonna be okay."

Her bottom lip trembled. "No, I'm not." She sat up, grimacing. "Tyler bit me. Werewolf venom is deadly to vampires. I'm . . . I'm gonna die." She cradled her head in her hands. "Oh my God. Oh my God, I'm gonna die."

I reached out a hand, and after a beat of hesitation, she took it. Her palm was clammy and cold. "Caroline, I'm not a liar." Unlike _some_ people in Mystic Falls, Klaus included. "I wouldn't do that. You're gonna be fine. There's a cure, remember? It's Klaus's blood."

A film of tears stretched over her round blue eyes. "He's not going to give me his blood! The only reason Tyler bit me in the first place was _because_ of him."

I set my jaw, determined to help her. "He will. I promise you. _He will_."

A sheen of sweat began to gloss over her pretty face. "H-How do you know that?"

"'Cause he owes me. Gimme your cell phone." Caroline plucked it out of her pocket and handed it to me without any fuss. That was when a blond boy, one I vaguely remembered from the high school gym a month back, ran into sight.

"Caroline!" he yelled, dropping to her side. "Are you okay?"

Uh, no. Apparently he _was_ stupid enough to ask. "No, Matt, I'm not okay, because Tyler bit me!" she snapped, then shakily pointed in my direction. "Grace . . . Grace is going to fix it. She's friends with Klaus."

Matt stared at me long and hard. "You're really gonna help her? Even though you're on Klaus's side?"

"No, I just wanted to play on her phone, check to see if there's any cool new apps while she dies," I spat, my voice dripping unnecessary bucketloads of sarcasm. Matt inched backwards. Thankful for all the times Klaus ingrained his number in my brain, I punched it into her key pad and hoped for the best.

"Who is this?" His light, accented voice on the other end made me want to punch him in the throat. This was all his stupid, selfish fault. Matt cradled Caroline in his arms, and beckoned for me to follow him as he carried her to where I assumed her house was.

"It's Grace, and you're an asshole," I growled into the receiver, unable to help myself. It was the goddamn truth! Caroline was one of the good ones, and I liked her.

"Grace, what are you doing, calling me -" There was a _creak_ on the other end, the sound of a door opening. "Why the bloody hell are you not in your bedroom? Where are you?!"

Oh, right. I forgot he'd be mad about that. I trailed behind Matt and Caroline so they'd be less likely to overhear - Matt was a human, and Caroline was more than a little preoccupied. "Uh, that doesn't matter."

"The _hell_ it doesn't! Come home _right this instant_ , or I swear, I'll -"

"You'll do what?" I interrupted, icy as a glacier. "You'll hit me again?"

Silence followed my cold exclamation. "No, sweetheart, I'm not going to hit you again, but that doesn't mean I'm not _exceptionally angry_ with you, and that doesn't mean I won't yell at you for the better portion of an hour and ground you for the rest of the year -"

This rant was gearing up to be a doozy, and I didn't have the time to suffer through it. "Tyler bit Caroline. She's dying. It's your fault. We're headed to her house. Be there, or be square." I ended the call, and mentally kicked myself all the way to China for the last bit. Ugh, I sounded so tough beforehand, calm and collected in the face of his rage, and then I had to go and say something like that and ruin it.

Grumbling to myself, I joined Matt and Caroline. "He'll join us there," I said as Matt quickened his pace. "Caroline's gonna be fine."

* * *

Klaus took his sweet-ass time. After explaining to Caroline's mother - the town sheriff - that help was on the way and I wanted to stay with Caroline, she reluctantly allowed me inside her bedroom. I snuggled up to the suffering vampire under her sheets, trying to keep her warm as she whimpered and cried out.

"Are you sure he's coming?" she asked for the thousandth time, her fingertips ghosting over her worsening wound. "What if you made him angry, and now he won't come?"

"If he doesn't, I'll hate him forever," I replied easily. "He'll come. He's not all bad, remember?"

Caroline sent a half-hearted glare my way. "He tried to have me killed."

"I didn't say he was all good, either." She breathed out a sad, broken laugh and I hugged her. She hugged me back, propping her chin onto my head, when I heard Klaus's voice from outside. My shoulders slumped down in relief.

After a minute or two of a quick back-and-forth with her mother and Matt, he appeared in her doorway. "Grace said you're going to help me," Caroline croaked after a brief, awkward moment of silence. "Are you? Or are you just here to kill me?"

Klaus seemed almost offended as he entered her bedroom. "Kill you? On your birthday? Do you really think that low of me?"

"Yes, no matter what she says."

Klaus shifted his intent gaze over to me. "Gracie's been defending me, has she?"

Caroline snorted weakly, and I lifted my shoulders into a sheepish shrug. "Hardly. But she's been saying this entire time that you're _not all bad_. I'd say ordering my boyfriend to kill me is pretty bad."

Klaus eyed me a moment longer before placing his full attention on Caroline. "Speaking of bad, your wound is the epitome of it. My apologies. Truly, I had no malicious intentions toward you. I'm afraid you're collateral damage. Caught in the crossfire." He touched her bracelet, playing with one of the charms. "I love birthdays."

"Yeah," Caroline scoffed. "Aren't you like . . . a billion, or something?"

"Nah, he's only a million," I chimed in, and Caroline's lips twitched into the ghost of a smile. "Don't give him more _age marks_ ," I quoted him from before when we had the same argument. Then, I turned back to Klaus. "You _are_ going to save her, right? If you do, I won't be mad anymore. Don't let her die."

Klaus sat down on her bed, and placed a surprisingly gentle hand on my shoulder, squeezing. "It appears this little one has taken quite a liking to you, Caroline," he murmured. "So, yes, I will heal you if . . . that's what you so desire. But, despite the sweetheart's endearing perseverance, she is not the only reason I'm here to save you from death."

"Why are you here, Klaus?" she whispered.

"On face value, I'm here because Grace asked me to and I want to make amends." Searching his face, I realized he was telling the truth. I nodded slowly, accepting his unspoken apology. "But that's not entirely it. I'm going to let you on a little secret, Caroline. There is a whole world out there, waiting for you. Great cities, and art, and music - genuine beauty." My heart stopped in my chest as I imagined it. There was so much more out there that I hadn't seen, and I _wanted_ to see it. "And you can have all of it. You can have a thousand more birthdays, _despite_ the fact that Gracie here will severely overestimate your age on a regular basis." Caroline and I exhaled at the same time, amused by his attempts to lighten the mood, which was exactly what he was reaching for. "All you have to do is ask."

I knew the answer before she even opened her mouth. "I don't wanna die."

Klaus snaked a hand around Caroline's head and lifted it forward, ever so carefully. He offered her his other wrist. "There you go, sweetheart. Have at it."

There was something nice in the way, at that moment, we were both Klaus's sweethearts. She sunk her lengthened fangs into his wrist, guzzling away at the life source he was providing her. "Happy birthday, Caroline," we whispered at the same time as she drifted off to sleep.

Klaus took my hand, and led me from the house. Once outside, he offered me a piggyback ride, which was his way of extending another olive branch. I happily accepted, no longer angry with him. After all, he saved Caroline and a good chunk of it was for me. "You should get her something," I hummed after he walked for a few minutes in a comfortable silence. My chin was propped against his shoulder. "Blood is a weird birthday present. You should get her something better, 'cause you like her."

Klaus stiffened beneath me. "I do not like her. I was doing her a favor. And, need I remind you, the favor was mostly on your behalf."

"That's not how you looked at _Stefan_ whenever you gave him your blood," I sang, pleased with the way my comments were digging under his skin. "I like Caroline. She's smart and pretty and nice and funny. You should date her."

I didn't need to see his face to feel his extreme, wholehearted eye roll. "I'm not dating Caroline. I'm not dating anyone. I don't _date_."

"Oh, 'cause you like being alone?" I asked knowingly.

"That's not what I said," he all but snarled. It took him a few moments to collect himself. He was trying be better, I noticed. It wouldn't happen right away, but he was trying. "I'm not alone, anyway. I have you."

"And your hybrids," I added sullenly.

"No, I had them removed from town," he sighed, and my interest peaked. "Stefan almost drove Elena over a bridge because he wants them gone and thus, they're gone. So, yes, I only have you left, it seems."

A satisfied smile nearly broke my face apart. "That's not so bad. I'm great company."

He laughed, the sound booming across the empty road before us. "You're all right. Although sneaking out of your room at night? That's an irritatingly teenage thing to do, and you're only a little tyke. Do not tell me this is a preview for the later years."

The meaning behind his words slowly but steadily dawned on me. "You're . . . you're gonna keep me, then? If you do, you better quit lying to me about stuff, like saying you'd never hit me again."

"Of course I'm keeping you," he answered right away. "You entertain me more than you irk me, what with your quick wit. You have nobody else, and neither do I. It's a match made in heaven, if there ever was one." He paused for a moment, considering. "And I won't lie to you anymore, Gracie, or hit you ever again. We're past that now - I promise you that."

I had nothing to say to that, but I didn't need to say anything. He chose me. Everybody in my life left me. Mama, by choice. Daddy, by death. But Klaus, no matter his faults - and there was a whole bunch of them, more than most people - _wanted_ me. And damn it, I wanted to stay with him, too.

There was something missing, though. In a way, he was taking on the role of my new dad. But what about a mom? Bekah was dead, for however long, but . . .

I was thankful he couldn't see me as an evil grin spread across my lips. It was then I promised to myself that I would find myself a new mom, and Klaus a girlfriend, so neither of us would be lonely.

And that person was none other than Caroline Forbes.

 **A/N: It appears Grace is going to play matchmaker. That'll be interesting. What'd you think about this installment? I love feedback :D.**

 **Oh oh oh, and the rest of the Mikaelsons appear next chapter, since this pans into _Bringing Out the Dead_. Get hyped, because I most certainly am! :D**


	8. Family Reunion

**A/N: Oh, you** ** _guuuuuyyysssss_** **. I topped a hundred favorites, and a hundred-fifty follows. That's so. Freaking. Awesome. I'm so happy. Thanks to all of you who have read, favorited, and followed - and a special thanks to those who have reviewed and given me feedback! A shoutout to "jordanbear" whose review filled me with such joy that it brightened the rest of my week.**

 **The chapter that we've all been waiting for! It's my longest one yet, I believe. I had a great time writing this one. There'll be a hint fairly early on of Katherine/Elijah, and yes, I'm fairly certain at this point that Kalijah will be endgame as Elijah will have never met nor grown to love Hayley.**

 **To all of those who have been suffering at the horrible onslaught of hurricanes, again, my heart goes out to you and your families. Please, please, please stay safe out there.**

 **Chapter 8: Family Reunion**

It only took a couple days for me to meet another one of Klaus's family members. This time, it was his older brother, the suit-wearing one I'd peeked at back in the Chicago warehouse. Klaus had gotten his family back, coffins from some old witch house, apparently. I didn't really pay much attention when he told me.

A hybrid named Daniel was busy shoving all the coffins in a big, spacious room and I was busy attempting to check inside without Klaus catching me. It wasn't working, because he was constantly aware of everyone and everything around him, but I still tried.

It was when he was too focused on his conversation with Daniel that I finally pried one open and . . . it was empty. I blinked once, then twice, and looked over every inch of it, in case I somehow missed the dead Original vampire. Nope, it was definitely empty. Well, shit. "Um, Klaus?"

"What is it?" he snapped, not bothering to turn around from Daniel.

"I'm pretty sure one of your siblings isn't as dead as you think they are." At that, he spun around, and had to do a double take at the sight of the empty coffin. "It's not _supposed_ to be empty, right?" Klaus shook his head, unable to find words through his building anger. If the Original wasn't _here_ , then where the heck was he?

Daniel squirmed behind Klaus's shoulder and suddenly slumped to the ground, dead. I gasped, reeling backwards. Standing over Daniel holding his bloody heart was a man in a suit who looked an awful lot like - _oh._ I glanced back at the unoccupied coffin. So, it was _that_ one.

"So, Niklaus . . ." Klaus twisted back around, shocked. I hid behind the open coffin door, but still kept one eye glued on the pair of brothers.

"Elijah!"

"What did I miss?" Elijah whipped out a fancy white handkerchief from his suit pocket and wiped off the blood on his hands, as if that undid the murder. "You look surprised to see me. So it wasn't you that removed the dagger from my chest?"

Who would undagger him? I tried to remember everything Klaus told me. He went to the witchy home, he gathered three of the coffins, receiving them from . . . Damon. Of course it was Damon. It _would_ be Damon. It was _Damon_ who undaggered Elijah, in some new plot to put Klaus down. Man, I needed to bite him already!

"You look like you could do with a drink," Klaus replied. "And we have a lot to discuss, so shall we?" Elijah didn't want that drink, because instead, he lunged for Klaus, and punched him hard enough to send him flying through a window-wall, glass shattering everywhere.

A protective instinct burned inside of me, and I sprung high into the air, landing on Elijah's back and positioning my teeth over his jugular, clamping down as hard as I could. "Leave him alone," I snarled, his sweet, cool blood dripping from my mouth. Klaus's eyes widened at the sight of me, and he quickly scrambled to his feet.

As the venom exited my teeth and entered Elijah's bloodstream, he shouted out in pain, and flipped me over onto the coffee table, his hand an iron manacle around my neck. Elijah's brow creased in confusion at the sight of me. It was probably a bit strange for him. His attacker was a scrawny blonde girl wearing sky blue jeans and a purple, long-sleeved blouse with a glittery butterfly on it. His fingers loosened.

"Let her go!" Klaus bellowed as he ripped Elijah off me, and slammed him into the very same table, breaking it into two. All three of us collapsed onto the ground, a mess of shards and splinters surrounding us and digging into my skin. "You know, you have every right to be mad at me. But I kept my word, I reunited you with our family."

I wriggled free just in time as Elijah attacked him again, and Klaus went soaring through the air, knocking against one of the coffins. He opened one up, and pulled a dagger out of a handsome, brown-haired man. He looked young, boyish - maybe only a year or two older than Bekah.

Wait a second, Bekah! I hadn't even been able to get within feet of her door without Klaus hearing it. Without all the hybrids, it was easier, although Klaus was on constant guard. But now . . .

As the two of them struggled against each other and Klaus threatened his brother with the new dagger, I bolted from the room. While the two brothers sorted out their differences, I reached the staircase, taking up the steps two at a time. Finally, I lowered myself into a crouch, and went up on all fours, reaching the top in a matter of seconds.

I raced down the carpeted hallway as fast as I was able. There was a padlock locking away Bekah's room, meant solely for me, but I wrenched it easily off the handle. Kicking the door open, I scrambled inside, and fumbled for her coffin. Using brute werewolf strength, I pried it open and plucked the dagger straight from her chest.

But Klaus could take it from me, and then I'd be back to square one. "Grace!" he roared from downstairs, apparently realizing what I was up to. "If you're doing what I think you're doing, I swear on everything holy, I will _destroy_ you -" Klaus then appeared in the doorway with a _whoosh_ , and a fraction of a second later, Elijah joined him. Klaus's eyes flashed amber at the sight of me. "Give that to me," he growled, sticking out his hand for it. "Right now."

Elijah blurred over to Rebekah, his countenance softening as he brushed his knuckles against her gray, vein-y cheek. Panicking, I hurtled the dagger through the window, creating a nice-sized hole as the weapon bounced down his roof and ended up clattering on the driveway. A snarl rumbled in Klaus's chest, and he sped away down the hall, but Elijah stayed.

I didn't think that one through.

"Quick, hide her body," I squeaked, desperate for a solution. Shoving my hands below her unmoving form, I attempted to lift her up, to no avail. She didn't even budge. "Help!" I tugged on Elijah's jacket sleeve. "Before he comes back!"

He stared down at me, wordless, for what felt like an eternity, even as Klaus zoomed back into the room, making moves to stab her again. "No!" I protested, jumping in his way. "Don't kill Bekah again! I-I won't let you!"

Klaus, with a swift eye roll, simply shoved me aside as he replaced the dagger in her chest and angry tears welled up in my eyes. It wasn't _fair_. Klaus huffed as he shut the coffin door, and a fat droplet rolled down my cheek. Glancing back at me, he sighed. "Bloody hell, you're going to cry over _that_? You're so damn emotional. Did you really think that would work?"

An unreadable look shadowed over Elijah's face as I furiously wiped the single tear away. "You're a horrible brother," I spat, stalking out of the room with my remaining dignity still intact.

Instead of hiding out in my room like I wanted to, I was dragged into sitting near Klaus as he poured drinks for himself and Elijah, bleeding into his brother's glass to heal him from the bite I inflicted on him. "Who is this?" Elijah eventually asked Klaus, gesturing toward me. "And why did she undagger our little sister?"

Klaus rolled his eyes again. "Her name is Grace Sutton. For some reason I cannot begin to comprehend, she adores Rebekah and all but worships the ground she walks on. She even made an attempt on my life with a chair leg when I first daggered her again."

Elijah arched an eyebrow, draining his alcohol and blood combination in one swallow. He almost looked . . . _impressed._ "She tried to temporarily kill you. And yet, she's still alive," he concluded.

Klaus grunted. "Obviously."

"And sitting right here," I added, and the ghost of a smile overtook his lips.

"Yes, you are," he drawled. "An . . . activated werewolf, to boot." I smiled, sheepish, paying no mind to the confusion that was twisted in his tone. He was none-too subtly referencing the fact that I bit him. Next time, I'd just let him hurt Klaus. Whenever I defended the mean old bastard, he did something worse, that even _I_ couldn't defend. Like, oh, I don't know, _killing his little sister_. "How old are you, child?"

"Eight," I said proudly, and he raised both of his eyebrows this time, looking to Klaus for confirmation. Klaus nodded.

"I was surprised too, when I found out." He refilled Elijah's glass with the reddish-brown liquid. "She triggered the gene when she was seven, and has been managing the transformations to this day. Quite extraordinary." Klaus sent Elijah a look then, one I didn't quite understand. It was a hard look, like he was telling his brother to shut up about something.

"Quite," Elijah agreed, nursing his drink. He shifted his focus back to Klaus. "And why, pray tell, do you have an eight-year-old werewolf in your possession?"

"He killed my daddy then kidnapped me," I said helpfully. Klaus groaned beside me for spilling the dirty secret so soon.

Elijah had to draw in a deep breath. "You murdered her father, kidnapped her, and she's been your hostage ever since?" Somehow, I knew he was angry, yet he seemed cool and collected. He was good at hiding it. I wondered how he did it. Whenever I was angry, anyone in a mile-wide radius was sure to know about it.

"No, not my hostage," Klaus snapped back, on the defensive now. "She's my . . . little comrade. The only person who's showed me a smidgen of loyalty for a very long time, despite the fact that she constantly tries to save Rebekah. And technically, Stefan killed her father, although I did order him after the faulty hybrid."

Elijah snorted in a way that made him still appear all prim and proper. How'd he do it? He was so unlike Klaus, it was as if they weren't even related. "Oh, so you've _befriended_ the eight-year-old werewolf whose father was murdered on your command and whose life you've ruined."

"Exactly," Klaus replied cheerfully.

"Uh huh," I chirped. There was no point hiding from the truth.

Elijah downed the rest of his glass, then deadpanned, "Wonderful."

* * *

Klaus ended up sending me back upstairs, after warning me he would be listening for any potential undaggerings, because he and Elijah needed to talk about "adult things" like killing his mom, apparently.

I eavesdropped, sue me. I wasn't all that surprised, though, and it didn't change my opinion about him. Maybe his mom was bad like mine. Also, I found out they were hosting a dinner party, and Klaus made me put on a dress since he didn't want me looking like a " _homeless_ feral werewolf orphan" since I was already "those last three." _Asshole_. Still, the dress was nice, mint-green and knee-length. Bekah had compelled it for me while we were in the department store in Chicago. It reminded me of her.

Eljiah left the house for a while as Klaus busied himself with keeping contact with his hybrids and the like. Meanwhile, I sat tucked away in my bed, finishing my latest sketch for Bekah. It was a bundle of sunflowers that Klaus allowed me to draw from that reminded me of her hair. Using my new box of colored pencils that Klaus _also_ bought for me - he genuinely felt guilty for hitting me again, and I never protested free stuff - I colored in the petals.

A gentle rap on my door gathered my attention. Weird. Klaus _never_ knocked. He barged right in, even if I was changing, and when I'd screech at him for it, he always said I had nothing he hadn't seen before and, since I was so young, nothing he was remotely interested in anyway. That was never my point, but try convincing _him_ that. "Come in," I said, and Elijah stepped inside, scanning every nook and cranny of my girlish bedroom. He'd gotten a haircut - it looked a lot better on him, to be honest. Whatever his hair was meant to be before was . . . unfortunate. I dropped the yellow pencil, and switched to a green one for the stems. "Hi, Elijah."

He didn't answer, so I looked up again, realizing his focus had been caught by the three-legged chair leaning against my desk. "Klaus took the leg I used on him away," I said conversationally, returning to my drawing. "He was mad. But so was I, 'cause I asked him not to kill Bekah again and he did it anyway. Your brother's an ass, but you know that already."

"Why are you here?" I paused in my coloring. "Forgive me. That was rude." Clearing off my bedspread of most pencils and papers but my current project, I patted the mattress, and taking the hint, he sat down, all regal-like. "I only meant that it is not in Klaus's nature to foster children. He has only done it once before, with a young boy, and that was two hundred years ago. He saw himself in that boy. I can only assume he saw himself in you, as well."

I wasn't the first? Somehow, it was hard to picture Klaus with another kid. I wondered whether or not the boy was a werewolf. Coloring in the last bit of stem, I signed it with a flourish and a smile, placing it on my nightstand with all the rest of Bekah's drawings. "He kept me 'cause I'm a werewolf orphan, like him. I think he's lonely," I admitted, forcing myself to look Elijah in the eye. He was intimidating, and it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. "Even with all his hybrids, he wants his family back."

"Then perhaps he should not keep us in coffins," Elijah said dryly, fiddling with a thread from the flower design on my blankets.

"He missed you." It sounded lame, even to my ears. "I know it doesn't seem like it, but he was really mad when Stefan took all of you. And he felt bad about daggering Bekah again. Honest. He didn't talk about you, but I saw him when he found out Stefan took you. He was really sad."

A slight crack rifted through Elijah's stone-cold composure where his lips parted, just barely, at the impact behind my words. That's when I realized the truth. He still loved Klaus, no matter all the bad stuff Klaus put him through time and time again. "Perhaps," was all he said. He then noticed all the drawings on my bedside table. "Those are good. You're an artist, like him."

"They're for Bekah," I replied, fond. He seemed almost surprised by my answer. "I miss her. She was my friend."

It took Elijah a long stretch of time to say anything at all. He only kept staring at the drawings. He was probably thinking about his sister. "I miss Rebekah, too." It was so quiet I had to strain to hear him. He cleared his throat. "Rebekah was never able to make friends very well. I'm . . . glad she has you."

I caught on his word choice almost immediately. "Don't you mean _had_?" I asked sharply. What was he planning? His dark brown, almost black eyes searched me closely. ". . . Is something gonna happen tonight?"

Elijah avoided my question like the plague. "You're intelligent," he remarked. "No wonder Klaus has found such companionship with you. You're a bright young mind."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," I said lightly. It was a half-truth. I sort of, kind of, _really_ liked being complimented. But then, I remembered with a start that Klaus could be listening in. Lowering my voice to the softest whisper, I pleaded, "Whatever it is, whatever you're planning, get her out of the coffin."

Elijah's nod was so slight, so _minute_ \- Klaus had told me what that word meant a week or so before, in his attempts to "educate me" - that again, I almost didn't catch it. But I did, and it felt like the two of us reached some sort of understanding. He brushed my cheek with the back of his hand, flicking at a strand of my golden hair, then stood up to leave.

Well, he was most certainly up to something. But I wasn't quite sure what it was. "Elijah, wait."

He paused. "Yes?"

Suddenly nervous, I toyed with the edge of one of my sheets. "Katherine Pierce wanted me to pass on a message to you."

Everything about him sharpened - his eyes, his posture, his interest. "You spoke to Katerina?" His tongue rolled over all the "r's" in what I assumed to be her original name, and I couldn't help but enjoy the way it sounded.

I nodded. "She wanted me to tell you that she still cares about you." Elijah's face fell slack in an array of emotions that I couldn't even begin to comprehend. His lips parted again, like before, but no words came out. Finally, he blurred away faster than the blink of an eye.

I sighed. Vampire speed was annoying. "Bye to you too, Elijah."

* * *

As the sun lowered in the sky and Klaus prepared for the evening, I followed him all around the manor. He acted all irritated and huffy about it, but secretly, I think he liked the undivided attention because whenever I made moves to leave, he found a way to continue the conversation.

"Can I bite Damon?" I asked as I stumbled after his long, unyielding strides. "Pretty please?"

As Elijah also readied himself for the meal, he passed us in a hallway, and faltered as Klaus replied, "Hmm. Why?"

Trying my best to ignore Klaus's older brother, I responded, "He tried to kill you, but even worse than that, I don't like him."

Klaus seemed to consider that. "I forgot he tried to kill me. You have a point. But it's uncouth to kill one's guests, so no."

"What about Stefan? He killed my daddy, and stole your family."

Elijah pinched the bridge of his nose as Klaus nodded slowly. "You make a serious point. Stefan severely overstepped his boundaries. Why not? If the opportunity allows for it, I won't stop you." Klaus clapped me on the shoulder, and I beamed.

An expression of mild disgust warped Elijah's face, and he stepped in before either of us could become too happy about our combined decision. "Is that what you're teaching your _little comrade_?" He quoted Klaus's term with a slight sneer. "To kill when she doesn't like someone?"

"It makes life a lot easier." Klaus shrugged. "And it's not like I instilled all that pent-up aggression inside her. She's a werewolf. We're a feisty bunch." He ruffled my hair and Elijah exhaled hard through his nose.

The doorbell rang, and smirking, I rushed towards it. Opening it up, Stefan and Damon waited outside. "Welcome to the manor," I said as professionally as possible. Damon smiled down at me while Stefan remained stony.

"Don't you look pretty," Damon cooed, somehow managing to sound sincere and sarcastic at the same time. "Did you dress up for little ol' us?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Stefan brushed past me without a word, and I frowned at his rudeness.

Damon leaned down to my height, as if to share some enormous, highly important secret. "My little bro's in a bad mood," he whispered loudly. "You spend most of your time around Klaus. You get it." He winked, and I cracked a smile at that.

Maybe Damon wasn't _so_ bad.

"Damon, Stefan," Klaus boomed from behind me. Damon stuck out an arm for me, and smiling again, I placed my hand in the crook of his elbow. "Elijah tells me you seek an audience. Very bold. Let's discuss the terms of our agreement like civilized men, shall we?" I pulled an insulted face. "And one civilized little girl." Much better.

I led Damon into the dining room and he leaned down again, all for the dramatics. "What seat should I choose? Where do you think I'll be safest?"

"You just walked into a lion's den, Damon," I replied pleasantly. "You aren't safe at all."

He pursed his lips. ". . . Fair point."

"Now, now, sweetheart." Klaus was thoroughly amused. "Are you accusing me of leading a lamb to the slaughter?"

"I am," I said, mirroring his smirk. "But that's not the real question."

"And what is that?"

"Who's the lamb?" Klaus shone with pride as both Salvatores shifted their weight, uncomfortable.

Both pairs of brothers seated themselves near each other. I sat between Klaus and Stefan, while Damon chose a chair near Elijah. They were planning something _together_ , I realized as I watched them like a hawk. Damon took the dagger out of Elijah, after all. Why else but not to hurt Klaus?

We all dug into the food except Stefan, who obviously didn't want to be here. As I munched down on the first-class meal, I carefully observed both Damon and Elijah to search for any sign of partnership. It was only until Elijah caught and held my stare knowingly that I focused solely on my food.

One of Klaus's compelled minion girls poured Damon a glass of wine. "Thank you, love." I wrinkled my nose. It sounded downright wrong with an American accent. Klaus did it better.

"You lost your appetite," Klaus aimed at Stefan, only to rile him up. Really, though, Stefan _was_ bringing down the mood.

"Eat," Damon ordered, pointing a fork at his plate. "I thought we agreed that we would leave the grumpy Stefan at home." Angrily, Stefan started to eat, stabbing his fork into the meat as if it'd personally wronged him.

This might've been the most awkward meal I'd ever been forced to sit through, and that was including all my parents' relationship issues and my mama's parents' hatred of my daddy. "That's the spirit. Isn't this nice? The five of us dining together?" He patted me on the head. "Such a treat. Is this what you had in mind when you pulled the dagger from my brother?"

I almost choked on a mouthful of tender meat. This was _so_ weird. "Well, I know how he felt about you," was Damon's easy response, "so I figured the more, the merrier." He winked at Elijah.

"I didn't know you were friends with Elijah," I addressed to Damon, not forgetting to be _polite_. "I thought you wanted all of them dead. Or is it just Klaus?" Being as obvious as possible, I tapped my finger against my chin, pretending to think it over.

"Now, now, sweetheart," Klaus hummed. "Let's not assume that Damon's intentions for this dinner party are anything less than pure, shall we?"

Damon's answering smile was tight. "You know what they say about people who assume things."

"Well, Elijah and I have had our share of quarrels over the centuries, but we always make it through." A deep pit in my stomach warned me that this time could be different.

"Kind of like you and Rebekah, right? Where is she, by the way? Last I checked she was still daggered because you were afraid to face her," Stefan taunted.

My mind went blank. Wait, was that why he daggered her? I never figured out that actual reason. I assumed he was doing it because he was an asshole and he liked stabbing his siblings. Maybe I wasn't giving him enough credit. "If you're referring to the fact that Rebekah knows I killed our mother, I've already come clean to Elijah." Or maybe I was giving him too _much_ credit. Keeping his sister dead because she found out he killed their mother? That kind of, _really_ sucked.

"Hey, Stef, remember when you killed Dad?" _Huh_. That was a new piece of information for me. But who was I to judge? "Might want to dial down the judgment until dessert."

"I killed my uncle," I added helpfully, and gesturing to me, Damon effortlessly weaved me back into the conversation. Elijah's eyebrows, meanwhile, crept up his forehead.

"See? Even she killed a family member. It's not an uncommon occurrence!"

"We're here to make a deal, Damon," he snapped back. "And believe it or not, I already knew she killed her uncle. I met her long before you, remember? Just because we all have some _common ground_ and we're here to negotiate, doesn't mean we need to kiss his ass for seven courses."

"I'm just saying we have a long evening ahead of us. Pace yourself." He turned back to me, his smug smile back in place. "Lovely little kin-slaying Gracie. Speaking of Klaus, how does it feel being his closest friend? Or should I say only?"

See, now I wanted to kill Damon again. He made it so easy to both like and hate him. Klaus tensed beside me. So much for _pacing himself_. "I don't know, Damon," a devious smile overtook my lips as I planned my killing blow. "How does it feel being Elena's second choice? Or _maybe_ I should ask Stefan that. You two looked pretty cozy at the Mystic Grill. Do I hear vampire wedding bells in the distance?"

Klaus boomed in laughter as Stefan dropped his fork on his plate, stiff as a board. It _clanged_ sharply. Even Damon lost his charming smile.

"Where is the lovely Elena tonight?" Elijah finally spoke up, looking mildly amused himself. Lovely was not the word I'd use to describe her. After all, she stabbed Bekah and that put her fairly high on my shitlist. Not as high as Stefan, but still high enough to be on there. I did hate a lot of people though, so it wasn't a remarkable achievement.

"I don't know," Stefan all but growled. "Ask Damon. He's the one . . . cozying up to her."

Klaus chortled again, utterly enjoying this. To be fair, so was I. It was funny to watch them squirm when Damon tried so hard to piss me off for no reason other than to be a dick. "I'm sorry, brother, you've missed so much. Ah, trouble in paradise."

Before Stefan could cut in again, I suggested, "Why don't one of you date Elena, and the other one date Katherine?" It was an inspired idea, in my opinion. "They're basically the same person."

I partially brought it up to annoy the Salvatores, but also to gauge Elijah's reaction, to see if he cared about her too. If the way his posture straightened and how he fiddled with his cufflinks was anything to say about it, he did. Deep down, maybe, but it was there.

"Elena is nothing like Katherine," Damon argued at the same time as Klaus questioned me, "And what do _you_ know about Katerina?"

"She was at your dad's funeral-thing." I shrugged. When Klaus opened his mouth to interrogate me further, I continued, "I'm a werewolf, remember? I smelled that she wasn't Elena, that she was a vampire. An old one. And we talked for a little bit. She's good people." Then, Damon's words registered in my mind. "Wait, how is Elena so much different from Katherine?"

Damon gritted his teeth together. "Well, for one, she's not a lying, manipulative bi-" He silenced himself at Klaus's warning glare. For all his faults, Klaus didn't swear much around me. _Much_.

I was genuinely curious how the two brothers didn't see the resemblance. And I didn't mean the physical one, either. "But she's driving you two apart," I reasoned earnestly. "She wants the both of you, doesn't she? She keeps stringin' you along, yet she keeps you coming back for more. That sounds manipulative to _me_." My mama taught me _all_ about the workings of manipulation.

"One more word about Elena and this dinner is over," Stefan announced, cold as ice. My words didn't make any sort of difference with him, he was still so hung up on her.

Why was he being so stubborn about this? So _stupid_? "I'm not tryin' to make you feel bad, Stefan." He clasped his hands together, avoiding eye contact. "All I'm saying is you're brothers. Family. That's important. More important than anything else."

Elijah and Klaus exchanged a meaningful look. Damon flicked at his wine glass, thoughtful. "The kid has a point, you know," he muttered to Stefan, but Stefan didn't grace him with the dignity of a response. He sucked in a deep breath. "You know what, probably best just to keep Elena in the do-not-discuss pile."

They were born in the eighteen hundreds, and survived this long. Were they _really_ going to let some teenage girl stand in the way of that? "It's just the allure of the Petrova doppelgänger, still so strong. What do you say, brother? Should we tell them about Tatia?" My heart sank. There was _another_ doppelgänger? _Ugh_.

As much as he tried to hide it, the change in topic clearly made Elijah uncomfortable. "Now why should we discuss matters long since resolved?"

"Well, given their shared affection for both Elena and Katerina, I think our guests might be curious to learn about the originator of the Petrova line." I _had_ been wondering how the doppelgänger issue was possible in the first place.

"Well, we're not going anywhere, Elijah. Please, do tell," Damon crowed, downing the rest of his wine in one gulp.

Elijah began right off the bat - and he was a remarkable storyteller. "When our family first settled here, there was a girl named Tatia." Klaus had tried to explain the whole viking thing, so it sounded a bit familiar. "She was an exquisite beauty." Both Elena and Katherine _were_ very pretty. "Every boy of age desired to be her suitor, even though she'd had a child by another man. And none loved her more than Niklaus."

For some reason, Klaus seemed to find what Elijah said funny. "I'd say there was one who loved her at least as much."

"You both loved the same girl?" I accused. It was hard to believe this all happened a thousand years ago, and that still today, brothers were fighting over Petrova doppelgängers like it was their _job_. Both Mikaelson men nodded.

"Our mother was a very powerful witch," Elijah continued. "She sought to end our feud over Tatia and so she took her. Klaus and I would later learn that it was Tatia's blood that we consumed in the wine on the night where our mother performed the spell which turned us into vampires." Hurt shadowed across Klaus's face during the story. Honest _hurt_. What his mom did was . . . pretty horrible. Was that why Klaus killed her? But then I remembered all he ranted on and on about the hybrid curse. She had cursed him in the first place.

It all dawned on me. The Original witch. She was their _mother_. All the times I'd been so confused about her became crystal clear, and I mentally kicked myself bloody. Of _course_. It was so obvious.

"Tatia wouldn't make a decision between the two of us," that sounded like someone we all knew, "so for a time Niklaus and I . . . grew estranged. Harsh words were traded. We even came to blows, didn't we, brother?"

"But in we realized the sacred bond of family," Klaus finished.

"Family above all."

Both brothers raised their glasses together, and Klaus nudged me, jerking his head toward my glass of apple juice. Hesitantly, I lifted it into the air. "Family above all. You're family too, sweetheart." A warmth bloomed across my chest as we all clinked our glasses together, and I couldn't stop the bright smile from spreading across my face.

But still . . . Why couldn't I get past the feeling that something was going to go very, very wrong?

"So, why don't we move this evening along and discuss the terms of this proposal?" Elijah offered.

"That's very simple," Damon jumped in, since he was waiting for this very moment the entire evening. "Klaus gets his coffin back, in exchange, he and the Original extended family - which includes you, short stuff - leave Mystic Falls forever. Me, Stefan, and Elena live happily ever after. No grudges."

Since he just _had_ to include me, I couldn't help but comment, "Live happily ever after . . . _together_?" Damon shot me a quick but wholehearted glare.

Elijah ignored my input. "The deal sounds fair, brother."

"What about Elena's blood makin' hybrids?" I brought up, and Klaus pointed at me eagerly. Damon groaned. "What? Did you really think he was gonna forget that, Damon? C'mon. Use your brain. You're, like, two hundred years old and I'm eight. Step up your A-game." He bit his lip, probably to keep from saying something he would regret - or that would get him maimed.

"Ding, ding, ding." Klaus flashed me a mischievous smile. "Finally, someone who gets it. Elena's doppelgänger blood insures that I will always have more hybrids to fight those that oppose me. You can give her all the nasty looks you desire, but Gracie here is more than correct. I will never leave her behind." He stood up from the table, and started to pace. Uh oh, this was going to be a _long_ rant. "Let's say I do leave her here, under your protection, what then? How long before one of you turns her into a vampire? Or worse, how long before she dies caught between your feuding?" Well, he had a point. What was she planning to do when they stayed young and pretty, and she didn't? "You see, each one of you truly believes that you're the one that can protect her, and that is simply a delusion." He sat back down. "Gentlemen, the worst thing for Elena Gilbert is . . . the two of you."

Damon smiled, but it was weak and didn't meet his eyes. "I'm gonna get some air."

"Let me deal with this." Elijah followed Damon out, making me all the more suspicious of their motives. The only reason Klaus _wasn't_ picking up on it was because he was so heated over Elena. While Klaus was distracted with drinking one of his servants, I slipped out of the dining room.

Once out of sight, I broke into a run, tracking down the scents of both vampires with ease. "What're you doing?" I demanded as I caught up with them. Then a thought bowled me over like a wrecking ball. Reaching forward, I tugged desperately on Elijah's jacket sleeve. "Elijah, quick, he's distracted. You can save Bekah!"

"Not now, little one," he murmured, and Damon began to head back to the dining room. As I made moves to protest, he drew a finger to his lips. "After you." The hand he placed on my shoulder was meant to steer me forward as much it was a warning.

"Elijah, _please_."

He spun me back around, and lowered to my height. "Grace," he said under his breath. "I have a plan, and I will not have you ruin it. Yes, Rebekah is involved in this plan. Do you understand?"

"Tell me what's going on," I begged.

He grabbed me by my shoulders, shaking me lightly. "Despite your love for Rebekah, you are loyal to Klaus, and though I do not fault you for that, it makes you untrustworthy." At the very least, I could appreciate his straightforward logic and the fact that he didn't talk down to me. "Now, do you understand?"

"I understand," I whispered, and he nodded, accepting that as the truth. Commotion sounded from the dining room, and Elijah sped off after it. Hurrying after him, I gasped at the scene before me.

Klaus was holding Stefan's arm in the fire, and Elijah had Damon pinned to the wall. So much for not hurting our guests. "What are you doing?" Damon all but shouted at Klaus as Stefan's skin melted off. It was horrid, and yet, I couldn't stop looking at it. It was as fascinating as it was ghastly. "Stop!"

"Now, bring me my coffin before I burn him alive," Klaus sneered. Oh, the mysterious fourth coffin. _That_ had come into play again. What was inside of it that was so important, anyhow? Some weapon?

"I'll get it," Damon said, desperate.

"Go with him, brother," Klaus ordered Elijah. "You keep him honest." Then, he shifted his intense gaze toward me. "And you go with them as well, sweetheart. Keep the both of them honest." So he didn't _entirely_ trust Elijah. "And, Elijah, when you return I will make good on my promise to you and I will hand over our family." His eyes found mine again. "I will undagger Rebekah."

I trailed after the two vampires and discovered soon enough that they weren't leaving the house. No, Klaus had stored all his coffins in a basement-like room earlier today after my fight for Bekah, and that's where they were both headed. I swallowed hard. This was going to be a long night.

Once I followed the two vampires and glanced inside the room, I tore across it before anyone could even blink. There was Bekah, alive and well - for a vampire, of course. Relief charged through me like a wild boar. Elijah had _already_ undaggered her when he spoke with me. That's why he wanted to shut me up so bad. "Bekah!"

Her hard, icy expression softened at the sight of me. "Gracie." A warm, brilliant smile pulled her lips apart and I dove into her open arms, reveling in the familiarity of her embrace as she lifted me up. I buried my face in her bare shoulder, her thick locks of hair tickling my nose. "Oh, my little love."

How _long_ had I been waiting for her to call me that again? Tears pricked the back of my eyes. "I missed you so much, Bekah." Pulling away, I looked deep into her now watery blue eyes. "I tried to save you, honest. Klaus caught me every time."

Her lower lip trembled as she fought back tears of her own, and she cupped my cheek. "I believe you, little love."

A high but masculine voice entered the mix. "Did you bring us a snack, brother?" Craning my neck around, a handsome brunette man - or boy - stood in my line of sight, smirking. Klaus opened his coffin earlier, I remembered. "It's an awfully small one."

"Kol, touch her, and I'll rip out your throat," Bekah snarled, clutching onto me tighter.

Another man lingered in the room as well, his clothes like out of a Medieval fairytale, centuries upon centuries outdated. He watched me with no small amount of curiosity and hesitantly, I waved at him, not knowing what else to do. He blinked once, then twice, and he waved back in a jerky motion.

Elijah exited the room with Kol on his heels, and gingerly, Rebekah placed me back on the ground, smoothing down my hair. "Sorry, Gracie, I have some business to attend to. I'll be back in a jiffy." She disappeared after them, along with the Medieval one.

They were going to hurt Klaus. Gulping, I trailed behind.

"Elijah . . . ," I heard faintly. "Why haven't you left?"

"Where are your manners, brother? We forgot dessert." I peeked inside the room to see Elijah reveal silver daggers on a platter. Klaus looked positively stricken by the motion.

"What have you done?" Klaus demanded, and my heart ached for him.

"What have _you_ done?" Elijah returned, all the anger he'd been hiding before surfacing full-force. "You see, I've learned not to trust your vulgar promises, Klaus. We're doing this on my terms now."

The brown-haired man entered the room then, Kol. He was smiling faintly, but there was something sinister about him. "Kol," Klaus breathed, horrified.

"Long time, brother," Kol replied simply.

Then, the Medieval man popped into the room, grabbed one of the daggers, and stabbed it straight through Klaus's hand. I squeezed my eyes shut as Klaus yelled his brother's name - Finn. Oh God, this was going to be a bloodbath! Acting without thinking, I rushed forward and jumped in front of Klaus with my arms spread as wide as they could go before Rebekah could reach him. "Please, Bekah, don't," I whispered, and hesitating, she lowered the blade.

"He killed our mother," she hissed, blue fire ablaze in her eyes as she glared at her brother. "He does not deserve your kindness nor your mercy."

"He's sorry, really, he is," I found myself pleading on his behalf, and I wasn't sure if it was a lie or not. Still, I had to _try._ "Please don't hurt him." Rebekah's face was unreadable. Klaus was wrenched away behind me into Kol's arms, and panic swelled up in my chest like an inflated balloon.

"You're free to go," Elijah told the Salvatore brothers. "This is family business." It didn't take long for them to cheese it the hell out of here. I half-wished I could follow.

Bekah brushed her soft fingers against my cheeks as she lowered herself to my level. "Go upstairs, little love. You don't want to see this." She kept my eyes glued on her as Kol began to hurt Klaus behind me. The sound of his tortured screams _killed_ me. "Or hear it."

Pulling away from her, I shook my head, then sprang into action as Kol continued to hurt Klaus - _my_ Klaus. "I won't let you hurt him." Snarling like a rabid beast, I lunged for Kol when he wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to anything but Klaus, and sank my teeth into his outstretched arm before he could stop me. Howling at the sudden pain of the venom, he wrenched me off him, and I went flying into the nearest wall, plaster crumbling all around me as I managed to land in a predatory crouch.

Kol's vampire features appeared as heat traveled behind my eyes; red against amber. "How did you - no matter, you're going to bloody well regret that," he hissed, over me in a fraction of a second, pinning me to the wall by my throat. I tried to nip at his hand, and he tightened his grip. "Bite me again and I'll remove your teeth, one by one."

A boom of thunder followed and Klaus crashed into his brother, the two of them tumbling onto the ground in a mess of growls and fangs and hatred. "Get off her!" he bellowed as the two of them wrestled on the ground. It only ended when Elijah and the other brother - Finn, I remembered - held Klaus back as Rebekah dragged Kol from the fight.

Rebekah slapped Kol across the face, _hard_ , snapping him out of his murderous trance. "I told you not to touch her," she spat. A shadow of dark fury crossed his face until he relaxed slightly under the hand she rested on his shoulder soon after. "We're here to direct our shared resentment towards Nik, and only Nik."

"Fine," he mumbled, flashing me the death glare of the century. He would've gone after me again, too, if not for Bekah's wrath. "I don't know how she did it, but I don't particularly care at the moment." Wait, what? Before I had a chance to think about what he said, he addressed to Klaus, "Give me your blood, Nik, and I'll leave the torture to our siblings. For now."

Klaus was almost _meek_ as he dribbled his blood into a glass of alcohol, passing it over to his brother. Kol drank it up, and the ugly wound on his neck healed. "Ah, much better." He sent me another mean glower. "No thanks to you, you little mutt."

I ended up next to Klaus, and I wound my fingers with his right hand, trying to show him that I was still on his side, no matter what happened. "I like what you've done with the new place, Nik," Bekah sneered, torpedoing a fancy vase into one of Klaus's many paintings. It shattered against it and the entire painting was vaulted off the wall. I winced.

Klaus's grip tightened around my hand. He needed me right now. "I wanted it to be for all of us," he murmured, his voice thick with the beginnings of tears, his eyes downcast. "A place we could all call home. A place we could all be a family. None of us would ever have to be alone again."

Elijah remained unimpressed. "Well, you're right, none of us will be."

I caught the true meaning behind his jab, and hardened up in the face of his betrayal. "And neither will he," I reminded the suit-wearing Original hybrid, feeling extra defensive over Klaus. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

"Then you'll both stay behind," Finn scoffed.

Bekah's gaze was almost pleading as it landed on me. "Please, Gracie. Come with me. I'll show you the world and all of its wonders. You don't need him. You have me." Her voice cracked in the last sentence, proving to me how much she cared about my answer.

This was tearing me _apart_. I needed the both of them in my life. "Don't go," I whispered, tears forming in my eyes. "Stay." Bekah pursed her lips, considering. "I care about him, but I care about you too. I can't leave him, but I've been waiting so long to see you again, and now you're gonna leave me?" For emphasis, I allowed a tremble in my lower lip, and reached forward to take her hand. "Everybody leaves me."

That broke her. I could see the hard, steely resolve dissolving into warmth for me, and she kneeled down to yank me into an embrace. I hid my face into her shoulder. "Oh, little love," she choked out. "I won't leave you."

Kol, meanwhile, was rolling his eyes. "Well, there goes our masterful plan. I'm going to need more booze to stomach this."

"Rebekah . . ." Elijah had his hands tucked into his pockets and a warning was etched into his stance. "We aren't leaving _you_ behind, but I am fairly certain we agreed to leave him behind as due punishment."

She brought me closer to her chest, and I was comforted by her unnatural heartbeat. _Lub-lub . . . lub-lub . . . lub-lub._ "I'm well aware he murdered our mother and kept us all in boxes," she snapped. "In fact, regarding the former, it was the doppelgänger wench who informed me of that. I'll have a _field day_ killing her." Elijah pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, and Rebekah stood up, positioning me on her hip.

Finn was clearly unhappy with the way the plan was unfolding. "So, we kill him in leaving's stead!"

Klaus took some serious offense to that. "I'm the hybrid!" he shouted, making me flinch away. "I can't be killed! I have _nothing_ to fear from any of _you_." He spat it with such disgust, that I completely and wholeheartedly recognized there was a side of Klaus he often didn't show to me.

But I'd seen it before, when he hit me or when he lost his temper. It was terrifying.

"You will when we have that coffin," Elijah retorted.

A door then opened behind us and a woman dressed in an old-timey emerald green dress glided into view, hip-length blonde hair cascading around her like a waterfall. At first glance, I marveled how much she looked like . . . Klaus and Bekah. Oh, shit. "Mother?" Bekah gasped as Klaus suffocated on his own breath. She gingerly placed me back on my feet. The Original witch.

The beautiful woman strolled over to Klaus, and he ducked his head, near tears. "Look at me!" the woman ordered, and he, with much effort, met her hard blue eyes. "Do you know why I'm here?"

Klaus was millimeters away from crying. "You're here to kill me."

Much to my amazement, she shook her head. "Niklaus, you are my son and I am here to forgive you. I want us to be a family again."

She stood back in front of all her children and gracefully accepted the hug that Bekah unloaded on her, her daughter sobbing and beyond words. One by one, she embraced each and every one of her children, even Klaus, although she saved him for last.

It was . . . kind of beautiful, actually. Nothing like my own mama. My mama tried to kill me for less.

It didn't take long for Mama Mikaelson to notice me. "And you are?" she asked tightly, her entire demeanor changing at the sight of me. Maybe she thought I was a spy. That was understandable. I'd be a great spy.

Klaus stood behind me, positioning his hands on my shoulders. "Mother, this is Grace. She is my unofficially adopted . . . daughter."

We all had different reactions to his words. Rebekah beamed as bright as the sun, Elijah sharpened with interest, Kol pulled a horrible face and practically gagged, Finn tilted his head to the side with curiosity, Esther recoiled in shock, and I gawked up at him. "What?" he demanded.

Esther then plastered on a smile, and swiped hair away from my forehead. "Well, then. That means you're family."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, I was ready for bed and tucked away under my sheets, when Bekah hesitantly walked inside my bedroom. I grinned at the mere sight of her, but then realized she was in different clothes, and her hair was up in a ponytail. "Where are you going?" I asked, disappointed.

"I was planning on killing Elena," she replied, then sat carefully down on the edge of my mattress. "But . . . I _suppose_ I could be convinced to stay."

I understood then. She was fishing around to feel wanted, and that was more important than any Petrova doppelgänger. "You have to stay, so you can see the pictures I drew you!" I squeaked, and her whole face lit up as I scooped them up from my nightstand.

"That does sound better," she agreed. "Murdering the doppelgänger can wait."

I held out the numerous sheets of paper in front of her. "Now, do you wanna see them in order of time, color, or alphabetically?" I asked very seriously.

A blinding smile drew her lips apart, and she pulled me into her lap, propping her chin onto my head. "Surprise me."

Warmth spread across my chest. For the next hour, I eagerly yammered on and on about my source of inspiration for each and every picture, as she brushed my hair and offered soft, pleased feedback. For the first time since my daddy died, I was truly, honestly _happy_.

 **A/N: Soooooo, what'd you think? I'm dying to hear. Next chapter will be entirely original, and there will be a gap between this and the ball, as I think that Grace should have time to bond with the family. Yes, even Kol, who happens to be my favorite character (most of the time). Grace will teach Finn the wonders of modern technology, and she'll get roped into teaching Kol how to drive in the 21st century. That surely won't go very well...**


	9. Chaos in the 21st Century

**A/N: The response to the last chapter has been absolutely, positively wonderful. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart. You guys _rock_. Go find some delicious cookies, and go eat them. You deserve it. **

**This is mainly a fun chapter. The Mikaelson ball doesn't quite take place, and I wanted to show Grace bonding with some other family members as well as how she's slowly but surely altering the plot. Needless to say, there's some havoc. I don't want to drone on and on, so please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks so much! :D**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing and nobody but Grace, and I certainly don't own any _Jackson 5_ songs, such as "I Want You Back."**

 **Chapter 9: Chaos in the 21st Century**

When I offered to teach Kol and Finn the merits of technology, I wasn't sure what to expect. Kol left to go and drink some local within the first five minutes, so I was stuck with Finn. But with the new haircut and change of clothes, he wasn't so bad. He wasn't very talkative, but I liked the sound of my own voice enough to fill the silences.

"This is a cell phone," I said, waving around the instrument that Klaus had compelled for his family members who didn't have them in the first place. "It's like a regular phone, but - oh wait, you don't know what that is either." I gnawed on my lower lip. "A phone is an invention where you talk into one end," I wiggled Klaus's phone, since he was letting me borrow it, "and you can hear it on the other end, and it goes the other way around too." I pointed at his phone. "But with cell phones, you can carry them around anywhere, and text too. Texting's really important nowadays."

Finn nodded along at the right moments, but a crease of bewilderment rested on his forehead for the entire conversation. "What is texting?" he asked.

"Well, in your days, people sent letters with pigeons or horses or whatever. Texting is like sending letters, but doing it real fast, so whoever you send them to gets it right away. Like this." I punched in a quick message of _Hi, Finn_ and sent it to him. His phone dinged, and he stared at it for a long moment.

"What happened?" he questioned, holding up his phone between his forefinger and thumb like it would melt at any moment. "Why did it make a noise?"

"You got my message!" I chirped, and his mouth dropped open.

"I did not know it was possible to send a letter with such haste," he murmured. "How do I read this aforementioned message?"

I scooted next to him, and showed him how to press the home button of the I-Phone and read the text. "That's the keyboard," I explained, as he tilted his phone around at every angle to see how all the letters appeared. "You press one at a time to form a sentence. It's just like writing, but the letters are already there, and all you have to do is press them."

It took about five minutes for him to piece a sentence together, as he was confused about how the spacebar worked, or why the letters "made noises" when he pressed them, and how to "scratch one out." When I explained it wasn't permanent, like ink, he marveled. Finally, Klaus's phone buzzed in my hands, and Finn's message appeared on the home screen. _Hello, Grace. I am still confused,_ it read.

I giggled, and even he cracked a smile. "I think maybe we've had enough of the cell phone for the morning. I'll show you the computer next." Without another word, I raced from the room, hustling past the dining room where Klaus, Elijah, and Rebekah drank the last of their coffee. They watched me go with identical Mikaelson smirks.

I took up the grand, winding staircase two steps at a time. Once in the hallway, I headed straight for Klaus's room when Esther turned the corner, and I crashed into the wall to avoid crashing into _her_. "Ow," I groaned, crumpling to the floor in a heap of hurt little wolf girl. If I listened hard enough, I could hear Klaus snicker downstairs and Rebekah smack him upside the head. Everything was back to normal.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," she said, helping me up. My head spun from the impact. With her haircut and modern dress, she looked like a whole new woman. Something then shifted in her expression, and she let go of my hand like I burned her. "I heard you teaching my son about the benefits of the new world. Do not let me stop you. I have matters to deal with." She waltzed off then, and I frowned after her.

There was something about Esther Mikaelson that I didn't trust. I couldn't put my finger on it, but it was there and it itched at the back of my mind. There was something she wanted, and I wasn't so sure a happy family was one of them. In fact, she didn't spend much time with them at all, if she could help herself. It was as if she didn't even _like_ her children that much, let alone love them.

Ridding myself of any and all suspicious thoughts, I snatched Klaus's laptop from his bedroom.

Five minutes later, I taught Finn how to turn the computer on, which in my opinion, was a monumental success. "This is the Internet," I explained once I opened up a _Safari_ tab. "You can search up any question about anything in the entire world, but most people use it to look up cat videos and get in arguments with strangers. And by most people I mean Klaus."

"I heard that, sweetheart!" he shouted from the dining room.

"You were meant to!" I yelled back, and Finn grinned after a brief moment of hesitation.

"Most people cannot speak to my little brother like that and live to tell the tale." He sounded _impressed_ , so I puffed out my chest like a proud little bird who flew for the first time.

"Yeah, he's basically my bitch." Commotion and ruckus sounded from the dining room - an odd combination of Rebekah's carefree cackling, Klaus threatening to put my head on a spike and use it as a makeshift flag, and Elijah calming him down with what sounded like a smile in his voice.

"Your female dog?" Finn clarified, bewildered.

I nodded decisively. "Yeah, 'cause he's a dog, and he acts like a girl."

Klaus then sped into the living room, a growl rumbling deep in his chest. " _That's_ _it_." I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing for the hit, despite his promise to never do it again, but instead, he stretched nimble fingers over my ribcage and began to tickle me without mercy.

Well, _that_ was unexpected.

Not only that, but he was _smiling_ , I realized with a start. His growl had been _playful_. I howled with laughter, attempting to bat him away and fight him off, but it was like pushing against a boulder. He didn't budge a millimeter. "I will allow you to take it back," he offered as he attacked the bottoms of my feet, "and we can forget this ever happened."

"Never!" I yelped, fat tears of mirth rolling down my cheeks, noticing Bekah enter the room. "B-B-Bekah, help me!"

"Your wish is my command, little love." In one swift blur of a movement, she tackled him and pinned him to the couch. "Run, before he gets you!" she giggled as he struggled beneath the arm bar she had positioned against his throat. "I can't hold him for long!"

I reached for Finn's hand, who had the ghost of a grin toying on his lips as he observed the unusual sight. "Quick, hurry!" I coaxed, tugging him along as Bekah attempted to tickle the Original Hybrid. She ultimately failed in her goal, as Klaus was stronger than her and made of steel, but at least she _tried_ to get revenge for me. The fact that Elijah himself was actually smiling behind the couch, using his _teeth_ (I know, I know, it was a real shock for me too), made it all the more fun. "Before the big bad wolf gets us!"

Finn willingly allowed me to tow him up the stairs and into my bedroom, and sat obediently on my bed, watching me as I shoved the three-legged chair under the doorknob to keep out any mean old hybrids. "I think we're safe," I breathed, slumping against the wall.

"I will ensure your safety, milady, fear not," Finn promised, and I couldn't help but giggle at his old-timey language.

As Klaus stomped up the stairs, I shimmied under my rumpled sheets, behind Finn. "You can't tell him I'm here," I squeaked.

"I will try my best," he replied, playing along. "Although, I cannot help but wonder if he will find you despite my grandest efforts."

Crawling back out from under the sheets, I cupped my hands against his ear, ignoring the way he tensed for a moment, and whispered, "Don't tell him this, but Klaus's brain is made of feathers."

Pulling back, I beamed at the exaggeratedly solemn expression on Finn's face as he nodded. "I have always known that to be true." He smiled slightly, then brushed a stray blonde lock from my forehead. "Now, quickly, child - you must hide before he comes."

Rejoiced at the fact that he was readily going along with the joke without any pushing and prodding from me, I scooted under my bed and scowled at the newly formed dust bunnies, as if that would make them disappear. Klaus pounded on my door. "Sweetheart," he said lightly, "open the door, or I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow someone else's bloody house down because I just finished remodeling."

God, he was so _Klaus._ I couldn't even think of a suitable adjective to describe him. He was just. So. _Klaus_.

"She isn't here, brother," Finn replied from above me, chuckling. "I fear she has escaped your evil clutches."

"Well, isn't that unfortunate." My door barged open, banging hard against the wall, and I shoved a good portion of my fist into my mouth to keep from cracking up into maniacal laughter. This was the most fun I'd had in - well, since my daddy died. Hell, even before that. Sometimes, although I loved him with every bit of my southern heart, Daddy hadn't been a real ray of sunshine to be around. "And to think, I was ready to buy her a brand new television."

What a liar! I'd asked him for _days_ now, pestering him nonstop since I was missing _alllllll_ my favorite cartoons, and he denied me each and every time. Only earlier this morning he said it would "rot my brain" which would be a feat in itself as my brain was "halfway there already." Luckily, Bekah had been there, and I asked her to hit him for me. She hit him real hard. It still warmed my heart to think about it.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Klaus's ugly, vampiric mug appeared and unable to help myself, I shrieked in surprise and mild fear. "Boo." Without much effort on his part, he clasped onto my nearest wrist under the bed, and literally dragged me out. Hoisting me upward, he switched his grip to my ankles, and as he stood up, I dangled upside down. "I've apprehended the vagabond."

Blood rushed to my head, and I moaned at the abrupt motion as he swung me around. I was only thankful that I was wearing jeans, and part of my shirt had been tucked inside my waistband when I'd been fleeing from the hybrid. "Follow me, brother," Klaus addressed to Finn, "she can finish showing you the merits of technology after she apologizes for her transgressions."

". . . Very well."

"Never!" I reiterated, and Klaus jerked me about as he and Finn descended the grand staircase, sending shock waves vibrating through my entire body. I just about bit my tongue in half when he "accidentally" knocked me into the bannisters once. _Asshole._ "You're mean! Bekah, help me!"

Much to my honest humiliation, I caught a peculiar, upside-down glimpse of Rebekah and Elijah at the bottom of the staircase, who both looked unfairly amused by my downfall. "I'm afraid there's not much I can do, little love," she laughed softly. "My brother is a stubborn one. He is not like to change his mind at this point."

"I'm stubborn, too!" I whined.

"Yes," Elijah interjected with a dry smirk, "but you happen to be the one in the precarious position, not him."

"Would anyone like some lunch?" Klaus offered, perfectly nonchalant - another word he told me the definition of in his efforts to _educate_ me - as I struggled to right myself. "I'm quite famished myself. I can have the cook empty her wrist into a few glasses, and fix something up for us. It's a shame, Gracie is usually starving at this time of the day, but I cannot seem to find her."

Oh, _hell_ no.

I kept struggling to right myself. "I _am_ hungry!"

"Perhaps you should extend the invitation to Kol," Elijah suggested, easily joining in with Klaus's horrible, no-good plot of _betrayal_. What a fashionable son of a bi- "It would be rude to leave him out."

"He mentioned something about wanting to learn how to drive properly," Rebekah, who was an absolute _traitor_ , reminded the brothers. Her lips were tight, as if she was holding back laughter with much effort. I went slack-jawed, which, mind you, was difficult to do upside-down. She took their side! She couldn't do that, girls stuck together, and girls just wanted to have fun, dammit! "I can't believe you compelled him a car already, Nik."

"I wanna drive!" I complained, tugging on Klaus's long cotton sleeve, but of course, they all went along with the ruse that I didn't exist because it was in their very blood to be assholes. They only got away with it because they were, like, a million years old, and much stronger and faster than everyone else.

"I might join him in his quest to learn more about the modern universe," Finn, who I had assumed would defend me, said. I gasped in mock offense. "That being said, the child has been doing a wonderful job at explaining the new world to me, no matter my unending confusion . . . _due to my stint in a coffin_."

"What child?" Klaus asked, pretending to be all innocent, ignoring Finn's last jab. "I don't see any child. Elijah, do you see a child?"

"Not in this general radius, no." He shrugged with an old-worldly grace.

"Hmmm. Rebekah?" Klaus prompted.

"I haven't seen her all morning."

"Well, that settles it. Finn, there is no child here."

"Perhaps I imagined her," Finn accepted.

"All right, all right!" I was soundly defeated. There was no way I could last much longer, hanging upside down. Hopefully, at _some point_ , one of his siblings - because it sure as all hell wouldn't have been him - would've put me down. "You're not a bitch or a girl or a dog. I take it all back!"

Smirking, Klaus set me back on my feet. "See, that wasn't so hard." My knees buckled beneath me and I would have collapsed from a sudden but powerful bout of dizziness if Bekah hadn't reached out and steadied me - even though I'd been _closer to Klaus_. "Whoops."

* * *

I banged my forehead against the dashboard for what felt like the thousandth time, and groaned at the familiar pain. "Oops, did it again," Kol chuckled as the car stopped trembling on its frame. "I thought I saw a squirrel. Killing things is no fun unless they're humans."

How was this my life? I sat in the passenger's seat of a brand new, bright red Mustang, battered and traumatized by Kol's attempts to learn how to drive. Finn was tucked away in the back, grumbling each time Kol slammed on the breaks. It turns out, as a welcome-home gift and a way to kiss up, Klaus had compelled a car for his little brother that had been sitting nice and pretty in the garage.

I really didn't understand how I got into this situation. Rebekah was spending quality time with her mother, Elijah had been reading for hours and was paying no attention whatsoever to his surroundings, and Klaus was out of town for the rest of the afternoon meeting up with his hybrids. As I continued to show the benefits of technology to Finn, Kol had showed up with blood splattered all over his front. After a quick back-and-forth between the brothers filled with mutual dislike, Kol declared he wanted to learn to drive his new car _now_. With Elijah ignoring the rest of the world, Klaus gone, and Rebekah busy, I was the unlucky candidate.

"All righty, then." Kol drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "I drove around back in the early 1900s with those Ford models that were only toys for the rich. But this is different."

I only stared at him. "Why am I here again? You threw me into a wall and called me a mutt."

Kol snorted, reaching to the side to flick me none too gently on the temple. "You bit me! What was I supposed to do, give you a bloody trophy?" He fiddled with the seat adjusters obsessively, sliding forward and back over and over and _over again_. God, he was driving me crazy. "This is nice. The three of us. My long-lost big brother, Nik's pet canine, and me, the life of the party."

Meanwhile, in the back, Finn was observing every facet of the car with simultaneous awe and bitterness. "I have never seen anything like this."

"We get it, Finn," Kol sighed. "You've been dead for nine hundred years and the last thing you remember is horse-drawn carriages and cobblestone paths. Cry me a river and build me a bridge." Finn glowered at him hatefully through the rearview mirror, clenching his jaw.

If I remembered right, Kol had been in a coffin for almost a century. "Isn't that what _you_ remember too, basically? There weren't computers and cell phones and advanced cars in your time either," I said skeptically, and he snuck me a half-hearted glare for my efforts.

"No matter. Let's do this thing. I think I'm ready for the road." Cheerful again, Kol started shifting the car into drive, having learned that from my brief lesson of how all the knobs and buttons worked. Considering I didn't know much at all, though, I was really beginning to think this was a bad idea . . .

"I dunno about that -"

I winced as Kol slammed on the gas, tearing out of Klaus's long neighborhood with gusto, leaving tire marks scorched in the asphalt behind us. My seatbelt locked into place and I was shoved back into my seat as he jolted the wheel around, his chocolate eyes alight with mischief. "This is fun."

"I regret joining you," Finn muttered as a rather green shade of color blanched all across his cheeks.

My heart shot into my throat as Kol pulled out into the main streets, jerking into the nearest lane and cutting someone off. I held my breath as the victim's horn bleeped behind us while they skidded to a stop. That was a close damn call, but Kol didn't seem to notice. "I can drop you off at the nearest street corner with those prostitutes," Kol offered to Finn, brandishing a hand at a trio of normal, averagely-dressed teenage girls as he drove along.

"They aren't prostitutes," I said as nausea gripped its way into my stomach and I clutched into the door handle for dear life. "That's how people dress now."

"Like whores?" A thoughtful, considering look flickered across his handsome features. "Hmmm. I like it." He smirked then. "Let's see how fast this thing can go."

The speedometer crept up into the eighties as Kol sped recklessly around town, nearly plowing a handful of innocent pedestrians over as he "accidentally" drove onto the sidewalk once or twice. It kinda seemed like he was aiming for them, but he claimed it wasn't on purpose and he was still getting used to the "rules of the road."

If that's what he called swerving out of his lane and almost nailing a light post in his efforts to stir up chaos, then whatever. "What does this do?" he questioned as he searched for the Mystic Falls' exit, pointing at the radio.

"It plays music." I twisted one of the dials to an oldies' station since my daddy's music taste was ingrained in me, and a _Jackson 5_ song came blaring on. The smooth, youthful vocals relaxed me and closing my eyes, I pretended I was anywhere but there.

" _Trying to live without your love is one long sleepless night,_

 _Let me show you, girl,_

 _That I know wrong from right,_

 _Every street you walk on,_

 _I leave tear stains on the ground -"_

"This boy is very talented, and I rarely say that," Kol remarked. He wiggled his pointer finger in my direction. "He's going somewhere, mark my words."

I bit down hard on my lip to keep from bursting into laughter. "Uh, that's Michael Jackson."

"Well, I guarantee this Michael Jackson will be very well-known one day. Just you wait." Unable to help myself, I loosed a hearty, amused snort and he frowned. "What?"

I looked away, out the window, trembling from restrained laughter. "Nothing."

He refused to accept that as an answer. "What is it?"

I gnawed on the inside of my cheek. "I didn't say anything."

He continued to glare. "Why are you laughing?"

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"You are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Not."

"Are."

"LOOK OUT!" Finn bellowed. Shifting my attention back to the road, I gasped at the sight of a large, misshapen tree branch in the middle of the narrow highway leading out of town. Fortunately, Kol's reaction time was fast. Unfortunately, Kol's reaction time was _too_ fast.

He turned the wheel violently to the left, and pushed the car into a vicious tailspin. I screamed as the Mustang spun a full three-sixty and skidded off the road, hurtling straight for a tall, wide oak tree. Kol's foot rammed onto the breaks before we could make a total, deadly impact, and instead, we rolled into the trunk hard enough to crush the front of the car, but soft enough that none of us were hurt - besides the fact, of course, that my head had torpedoed against the window and blood trickled down my skull.

For a full minute, the three of us sat in absolute silence. Eventually, Kol turned to the side, wide-eyed, and informed me, "This is all your fault. Yours and Michael Jackson's." Then, brushing his fingers along a jagged crack on his windshield, he asked, "Do you think Nik will get me a new one?"

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Elijah pulled up with a Porsche too shiny for its own good. The three of us were lingering at the side of the road a good distance away from his Mustang, since it started smoking and spitting from the engine. Using Finn's phone, I called Elijah to pick us up.

He didn't appear too happy. "I don't know why I expected anything else," he drawled as he slammed his driver's door closed, heading straight towards us, looking the part of a runway model in the cool, refreshing breeze. "Grace here," he raised an eyebrow at me, and I shrugged sheepishly, "avoided most of the details over the phone. Finn, brother, please fill me in."

"Kol is a very bad driver," was all he had to say, and even Kol didn't have much of an argument to the contrary. Right on cue, the Mustang exploded behind us, bursting into a big, dramatic ball of flames. Bright orange embers shot in every direction and a wave of pure heat wafted over to us, shimmering up into the sky. Kol grimaced.

Elijah drew in a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger as the fire crackled into the air. "Are you hurt?" he finally asked me, gesturing to the blood caked in my hair.

I shook my head. "Only when he crashed into the tree. I healed quick."

"Quickly," Elijah murmured and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. I was in a car wreck, the same car just _blew up_ , and that was all he had to say? Did _everyone_ have to correct my stupid grammar? Jesus Christ, they made it their _jobs_. He fixed me with a stern look, breaking me from my rapid thoughts. "Now you, little one, could have died."

I scrunched up my nose, disgruntled. "How's that my fault?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you are eight years old and are not allowed in the passenger seat of a car, nor equipped to give driving lessons of any sort." He towered over me, crossing his arms in the classic "I'm a big mean grownup and you're a bad, stupid little kid who's totally in for it" gesture, and I shifted my weight from foot to foot. But I wasn't intimidated. Nope. Nada. Not one bit. "Needless to say, Klaus will be quite unhappy when he hears."

My heart sank. Klaus would be furious. Somehow, he found new and exciting ways to blame things on me, so I had no doubt that he would figure out a way this time too. Desperate, a harebrained idea hopped across my mind. Maybe I could sway Elijah onto my side through charm and wits. "I didn't do nothing wrong."

He would take the bait. He had to. It was in his _bones_ to act better than everyone else, to inspire knowledge in others by teaching them - or demeaning them, more like. Whichever method he preferred, he'd sure as hell do it. "You didn't do _anything_ wrong," he corrected automatically, and I felt like pumping my fist into the air.

A slow, impish grin spread across my face. "Exactly!"

Elijah narrowed his eyes, but the slightest of knowing smirks touched his lips. He was impressed, figuring out the delicate trap I set out for him the second after he stepped right into it. He exhaled his amusement sharply through his nostrils, rueful. "Cheeky, cheeky."

"Lemon squeaky," I added with another smile to prove to him that none of this was my fault whatsoever. Once again, the corners of his mouth turned up, and he gave me a warning tap upside the head before strolling over to his misbehaving little brother, prepared to offer up a piece of his mind.

A certain warmth spread itself across my chest. First Klaus, Rebekah, then Finn, and now Elijah; I had four Mikaelsons wrapped around my little finger without much effort at all. I nodded to myself in determination. Kol was next.

Maybe this whole family thing wasn't so bad after all.

 **A/N: Yeah, so I had way too much fun writing that. I hope you had as much fun reading it. Tell me in the reviews ;D. Next chapter will be a lot more angsty, but will have some fluff sprinkled in. Oh, and there's a little bit of Klaroline...**


	10. Dark Past, Bright Future

**A/N: Argh, I'm sorry, it's been a month. All I can say is: four AP classes. Sob. To all of those who have been reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing this story, thank you to the moon and back. Each notification makes me smile.**

 **The last chapter was essentially all fluff, while this chapter is a mixture. I'll admit: it's heavy at first. Really heavy. It answers questions that (hopefully) you've all been wondering: why did Grace kill her uncle, and why did her mother leave? This explains that. It's pretty dark, and includes mentions and flashbacks of attempted child sexual abuse before the murder itself, so if that's too much, feel free to skip ahead to the lighter stuff later on. Essentially, passages in italics will either be a flashback or dream related to that.**

 **I tried to make up for the heavier stuff with some nice Klaroline moments and humor. I hope you guys like this one; I put a ton of effort into it. Please read, review, and enjoy (like, don't enjoy the sad parts, you know what I mean). Thanks so much! :D**

 **Warning: Mentions, flashback, and nightmare of attempted sexual abuse on a child from her uncle. Subsequent murder (which is self-defense) of said uncle by child. Attempted murder of child by mother.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing and nobody but Grace. I certainly don't own the Disney songs "Hakuna Matata" from _The Lion King_ and "Kiss the Girl" from _The_ _Little Mermaid_. **

**Chapter 10: Dark Past, Bright Future**

The second Klaus mentioned offhandedly that Caroline's father was murdered, I demanded for him to drop me off at her house, furious that he hadn't said anything earlier. And that's why I stood on her porch with a fancy French pastry that Klaus ordered specially for her. He didn't like her my _ass_.

I obnoxiously pounded on the door until she opened it up, squinting out at me with puffy, red-rimmed eyes. "Gracie?" She rubbed at her sticky cheeks. "What're you doing here?"

She was a mess. Her normally perfect waves of blonde tresses were strewn all over her shoulders as if she'd just survived a tornado, but _barely_. Her bright, cornflower blue eyes were magnified with tears but dulled from grief, and her face was bare of any and all makeup. Briefly, I listened inside for any heartbeats, and wondered why her none of her friends or mom were inside with her. Didn't they care?

Oh well, I'd care enough for all of them.

I gave her a sympathetic little smile, and held out the pastry. "I heard about your dad. Since my daddy died more than a month ago, I thought I could help."

With a hesitantly offered hand, she reached for the dessert, and peeked inside the container. "This isn't a casserole," she murmured with the ghost of a smile. "This is better." Sweeping out an arm, she opened up her door wider. "Come in. My mom's at work. She can't get away from it, I guess." Her lips pursed together, and she fiddled with a stray string on her blouse. Clearly, she was displeased about that. "Elena's been spending most of her time with the Salvatores. They're all worried about the Originals. Frankly, I don't care about any of that, but try telling that to Damon. Bonnie's been good to me, though. She only just left."

The last time I was in her house, it was when Tyler had bitten her and she almost died. Hopefully, one day, I'd be invited in on happier circumstances. "I've been hanging in there," she continued once the silence had stretched on for a few beats too long, after placing the pastry on the kitchen counter. Some people were content with comfortable silences and didn't feel the need to fill them. She was not one of those people. "It's been hard, though. He left my mom and me when I was about your age," I inclined my head, surprised, "for a man, but I still loved him. He was awful near the end. He _tortured_ me when he found out I was a vampire. He _hated_ what I was." More tears flooded her eyes, sharpening their rich color and offering contrast between the blue and surrounding red. "But he was my daddy."

He tortured her? Then what was she crying over? I would've spat on his grave. But I remembered that it was more complicated than that, and how lots of people in the _know_ felt about vampires. Maybe he thought she wasn't his daughter anymore.

But that didn't make it okay.

"It's not gonna stop hurting," I said softly, deciding to comfort her rather than trash his memory, and she sniffled pathetically, moisture spilling down her pasty cheeks. "You'll never stop missing him. The hole in your chest will feel like it'll tear you apart from the inside out. Like you can't breathe. But you'll get used to the hurt. It makes you stronger." I sat next to her on the couch and reached for one of her hands, intertwining my fingers with hers. "And one day, you'll wake up, and you can breathe again." Grief washed over me in one enormous wave, and my chest ached for my own daddy. I wasn't quite there yet, but I was a survivor. "I'm just starting to learn how to breathe again. I think Klaus is learning with me."

Pitiful sobs racked through her slender form and I wrapped my arms around her neck, allowing her to lean against my shoulder. "I-I don't know i-if I c-can," she blubbered into my teal-shaded sweater. "I-I miss him s-so much. I-It's eating m-me up." She pounded her fist against her chest as if trying to restart her heart. "I-It hurts so b-bad. I'll never s-see him again."

"Just get through the day," I coaxed her. "Don't think about the rest of your life. Just take it one step at a time and you'll start to deal with the hurt. It'll always be part of you, but you'll learn to live with it. And one day, it won't be so bad and you'll realize how much stronger you are _because_ of it, not _despite_ of it."

Wow, that might've been the smartest thing I ever said. I mentally patted myself on the back. Had I read that in a book somewhere? I couldn't believe I came up with that all on my own.

Pulling away, still teary-eyed and blotchy-faced, she demanded, "How are you so wise? Your father only died like a month and a half ago. Surely you haven't fully adapted."

Somberly, I shook my head. "My mama left for good more than a year ago. She might as well be dead. I'm an orphan now."

Hastily, she brushed the last of her tears off her cheeks, scoffing at herself. "Here I am, an eighteen-year-old vampire crying on an eight-year-old orphan's shoulder when I lost only one parent - a parent who was barely around and tortured me. I'm pathetic."

Guilt churned in my stomach; somehow, I only made her _more_ upset! "No, no," I denied quickly. "That's not it at all. I was a lot sadder about my daddy, anyway. You're allowed to be sad about your daddy, too. My mama tried to kill me before she left so I wasn't too sad when she was gone."

Caroline's delicate, golden eyebrows scrunched together as her eyes widened in horror. "Your mom tried to _kill_ you?" She started to shake her head, fighting to disbelieve me. "When my dad . . . _hurt_ me, he was trying to fix me. Change my nature. But he didn't try to kill me. No, I can't believe that. T-That's _horrible_."

"She stabbed me," I said simply, and a strangled gasp rose from her throat as her hand flew to her mouth. "She stabbed me in the stomach, and would've stabbed me in the heart if my daddy hadn't come home and stopped her."

Poor Caroline's lips trembled as she struggled with her shock and disgust. "How," she eventually croaked, "did you survive?"

"I'd just triggered my werewolf curse," I explained, a chill running up and down my spine at the memory. "I killed my uncle, her little brother. I guess she loved him more than she loved me."

"You told me that before," she murmured, then clarified at my questioning glance, "that you killed your uncle when you were seven. If you don't mind me asking . . . why? Why'd you do it?"

A shiver trailed through my skin and gave me goosebumps, and suddenly, I felt cold. Like a glacier was stirring inside of me, freezing everything in its icy path. I'd only told Daddy before, and even then, it was basic. He'd been furious, though. Beyond furious. Angrier than I'd ever seen him. "He was staying with us during part of the summer before he went back to college. It started when he made me watch movies with him in his bedroom. My mama was grocery shopping. I didn't understand the movies, but he liked them a whole lot. The people were naked and he made me sit on his lap."

A green tint washed over Caroline's pale skin, and she was speechless. Looking down at my jean-clad knees, I explained, "I didn't like watching those, but he wouldn't let me leave until they were done." I shuddered. I never wanted to watch anything like that ever again. "One day, he said he wanted to try some of that stuff on me."

Her now wavering hand shifted to cover her mouth. "Oh my God. _Oh my God_."

My own hands trembled at the memory. "He started touching my thigh and I got scared and ran. I locked myself in the bathroom, and he told me through the door if I said anything he would kill me. Then my mama came home, so he left me alone."

Now, she was as white as a ghost. "Then what?" she asked, her voice small and timid. She didn't want to hear the answer. I didn't blame her.

A lump swelled up in my throat. "A week later, my mama was shopping again and my daddy was at work. My uncle was gone for the morning, but he came back when I was watching TV." I remembered distinctly how my stomach had dropped as his key wobbled in the lock. "He was drunk, and I got scared again, and hid in the kitchen. But he followed me. He kept saying stuff that I didn't understand. All the things that . . . that he wanted to do to me and all the things that he wanted me to do to him." When I asked my daddy about it much later, he told me never to say those things around him again, or he would lose his mind.

Caroline's breaths hitched, quick and uneven, and I wasn't in a much better state. "I didn't get it, but I knew he wanted to hurt me. Hurt me real bad." My heart had been about to pound out of my chest. "I was so scared."

* * *

" _Graciiiieeeee," my uncle taunted as he stumbled into the kitchen doorway. "Gracie Luciiiiiile. Come out, come out, wherever you are!"_

 _I was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane as I ducked into the cabinets underneath the sink, shutting them behind me as quietly as I possibly could. "Come on, Gracie, don't you want to play with your_ favorite _uncle?"_

 _I covered my mouth and nose with clammy fingers so he couldn't hear my ragged breathing._ Don't find me, don't find me, don't find me, _I thought over and over again. I prayed to a God I wasn't so sure I believed in for him to leave me alone. That was all I asked. For him to please, please,_ please _leave me alone._

 _God didn't hear me. Or maybe he didn't care, but either way, the cabinet doors flew open, and there revealed was my uncle's youthful, mischievous face. He was smiling, but it was a cold smile. So cold. "Boo."_

 _A scream erupted from my throat as he lunged for my elbow, hauling me out from under the sink as I punched and kicked and bucked to break free, fighting for what could've been my life for all I knew. "Let me go, let me go,_ let me go!"

 _One of my wild fists made contact with his jaw with a strength I didn't know I possessed, and he howled at the sudden bout of pain. I wrenched out of his iron-clad grip and ran like hell, only making it to the end of the stretch of tiles before he dove for my ankles, sending me crashing to the floor._

 _It was a blur after that. His hands tried to roam in places they had no business being, and I struggled with all my might. As he attempted to hike up my dress, I made a leap of faith for a knife Mama had left out with a loaf of bread when she'd made turkey sandwiches earlier. Fumbling for the handle, I turned around and let my innate werewolf instincts control me._

 _I forced the knife forward, and then there was red._

* * *

It was as if every drop of blood had drained from Caroline's pretty face, where she finally took after the walking corpse she actually was. She didn't say anything for a very long time after I finished my story. It was as if she'd forgotten how to speak.

"Caroline?" I promoted, squirming in my seat. What was she thinking? Was she disgusted in me? Did she no longer want to be my friend? Did she hate me now? "Please say something."

"I don't know what to say," she eventually whispered, steel flickering across her watery, distant eyes. "I'm glad that son of a bitch is dead. If I had the chance, I would've killed him myself. And I - I don't _say_ that. Like, ever. But I mean it. I wish I could bring him back to life just to kill him all over again."

That brought a swell of warmth inside my chest, blossoming like a red rose in the springtime. Who knew the concept of death could bring me such comfort? I leaned into her side, and she immediately wrapped her arms around me, like I'd done earlier for her. "I wish my mama had felt the same," I said, despondent.

"Did you explain yourself? Surely she'd understand that you had to defend yourself," she insisted. "Children come first."

I smiled sadly. "Not to her."

* * *

 _He was dead. His common, drunken brown eyes were glazed over with nothingness as he bled out all over the kitchen tiles. There was so, so much blood. It was all over me. My hands, my dress, my mind. My soul._

 _I wasn't sure how long I sat there. Enough for my werewolf gene to awaken and for an unbearable heat to travel through my body and only eventually fade away. At the time, I didn't know what was happening to me, but in my shock, I didn't care a whole lot. I'd just killed somebody. No, I just killed my own uncle._

 _The front door creaked open, and my heart stopped in my chest. A buzz of terror wracked my limbs. "Gracie, I'm home," Mama called cheerfully from the living room. "Help me put the groceries away and I might just sneak you some ice cream before dinner. I have good news to tell you when Daddy gets home." Silence._

" _Gracie . . . ?"_

 _. . . The strangled scream that erupted from her as she stumbled upon the crime scene was like nothing I'd ever heard before in my whole life. It was a noise of utter heartbreak._

" _Lucas!" she screeched, dropping to her knees. His growing puddles of blood drenched her old jeans. "Oh God, oh God, no!" She pressed onto the gaping hole in his chest, frantically trying to stop the bleeding. It didn't work. He lay there, perfectly still. "No, no, no, please, no . . ."_

" _Mama," I whispered, and she turned around, ever so slowly. I had never before seen that look in her eye as she looked me up and down. The newfound darkness and loathing that swirled in the depths of her soul as she realized what I did._

" _You," she monotoned. "You killed my brother."_

 _I didn't stop her as she flipped me over her lap, her hand raining blows down on my backside, harder than ever before. Soon enough, though, something in her changed. I was not the errant child she was punishing for misbehavior. Her open palm curled up into a fist and she began to pound it against my legs. I morphed before her very eyes into something else entirely. I wasn't her daughter anymore - no, I was the creature who murdered her baby brother._

" _You killed my brother!" she raged as she shoved me viciously off her lap, punching me with a deranged fury that left me a whimpering mound on the floor. "You killed my brother, you killed my brother, you killed my brother!"_

" _Mama, please!" I pleaded in-between hits, cowering away from her. "He touched me in bad places, he was trying to hurt me -"_

" _Don't lie to me!"_

" _I'm not lying," I sobbed. "P-Please believe me. Please, I'm b-begging you, believe m-me!"_

 _She only kept hitting and hitting and hitting me. I would've been a horrible mess of blood and bruises if I hadn't healed so damn fast. In her equal amount of confusion and frustration, she reached for a knife. "You killed my brother. You're a monster. A demon. You deserve this. You deserve to die like he did."_

" _Mama, don't - !" The first thrust sent a foreign rush of white-hot agony through me, and I choked as she removed it only to stick it inside me once more. Blood gushed around the steel in a waterfall of crimson._

 _Ripping it out of me, she positioned it over my chest, and I didn't see my mama no more. "You. Killed. My. Brother."_

 _The tip of it only pierced my skin when Daddy charged in like a wild bull, shouting and hollering and tackling her to the ground. "Get off her!" he bellowed, pinning her to the messy, blood-stained tiles as he wrestled for the knife. "What the fuck are you doing?"_

" _She killed Lucas!" Mama shrieked back, fighting against his grip like a madwoman._

 _Despite himself, Daddy spared a glance at my uncle's corpse. He never liked my uncle much. It didn't faze him. As Mama raked her fingernails across his cheek, he threw a fist at Mama's nose, snapping her head back, and he scrambled to get a better grip on her shoulders. "She's our daughter; our little girl! She comes first, she_ always _comes first!"_

 _Numbly, I watched the wounds in my stomach heal into perfect, unmarked skin. I didn't understand, but I didn't understand much of anything that happened in the last ten minutes. My own mama tried to kill me. Nothing was real anymore._

 _Daddy ended up stealing the knife away from her, and they screamed at each other so loudly the house trembled in fear on its frame. I slipped away and hid in the closet, trying my hardest not to bawl my eyes out. I was so, so, so scared. I hoped to everything good and holy that I would never have to feel like that again. Clasping my blood-stained fingers together, I prayed._

" _I'm leaving!" Mama ended up screeching like a banshee. And to think, she'd called_ me _a demon. "You're choosing that - that_ freak _over your own wife?!" Tears flooded my eyes. A freak. She thought I was a freak, and a monster, and a demon. "Fine, then. So be it. I'm leaving the_ both _of you!"_

" _Of course I'm choosing her over you! What the hell did you think was going to happen, huh? Huh?! You tried to kill my baby girl. She is and will always be the most important thing in my life. Get the fuck out of this house!" he roared at the top of his lungs. "Get the fuck out, and never come back! Come back, and I'll kill you dead!"_

 _The door slammed so hard on its hinges that the closet rattled. I sobbed into my folded knees, finally daring to make noise now that she was gone. The closet door wrenched open, and there stood my daddy in all his bloody glory, despair written all over his reddened face. "I'm so sorry, baby." He scooped me up into his arms, and I wept into his plaid-covered shoulder. "You're safe now. You'll always be safe with me. I love you so much."_

" _I love you too, Daddy," I whispered into his neck. "Never leave me."_

" _I won't, Gracie. I promise. I'll never leave you."_

* * *

By the time I was finished with my story, Caroline was in tears again. But then again, so was I. "I can't believe a mother would try to kill her own child," she choked out. "You even told her the truth, but still, she loved him more."

Scrubbing away my own sticky cheeks with my sweater sleeves, I explained tiredly, "My grandpa was a drunk who liked to beat his family, and my grandma was weak. My mama basically raised my uncle."

"But you were her _daughter_ ," she stressed, still aghast. "That trumps any sibling card."

"I don't really wanna talk about it anymore." What was done was done. Somehow, I'd managed to accept what happened, even though I didn't understand it. She used to tell me how much she loved me, but it all went down the drains in a span of two minutes when she caught a glimpse her little brother's corpse. It was as if she'd never loved me at all. Maybe she didn't.

Maybe she never loved me.

Clearing my head of those ugly thoughts, I perked up, an idea springing to my mind. I could still salvage the rest of the day. "You should come to my home. You ain't gonna feel better if you sit an empty house and cry alone. You can sleep over."

She half-heartedly scoffed, still trying to internalize all that I'd told her. "In a house full of Originals? They'll murder me in my sleep."

"Klaus won't," I said innocently. Maybe this wasn't the time to play matchmaker, but she needed distraction and frankly, so did I. "C'mon, do it for me. You're closer to my age than any of them, anyhow. If you have one, we can watch movies on your laptop and bake stuff. They don't have a TV. It sucks."

It didn't take much longer to convince her, which showed that she was aching for some company - or at the very least, something to do other than cry. All I had to do was promise to keep her away from the Mikaelsons to the best of my ability. Which would be hard, considering how nosy most of them were, but she didn't have to know that.

After sending a quick text to her mom that said she was sleeping over at Elena's and packing up an overnight bag, she drove me to the Mikaelson mansion with my vague, confused directions. I called Klaus on her phone, and if Caroline hadn't had vampire hearing, I think he would've yelled at me a lot more.

Once I hung up, Caroline complained, "I can't believe I'm doing this." She snuck a mild glare in my direction. "No, I can't believe _you're_ making me do this." She nervously pushed a strand of platinum blonde hair behind her ear. "Rebekah the blood slut hates me, and then there's _Klaus."_

"You and Bekah could be friends, ya know," I pointed out, and she wrinkled her nose in disgust. "You're basically the same person. Blonde, pretty, popular, smart."

"We are nothing alike," she argued.

"And petty," I added as if she hadn't said anything.

"I am _not_ petty." I stared at her until she relented, "Okay, maybe I'm a _little_ petty. But just a little bit. Only sometimes." I stayed silent. I knew her type. "Fine, fine, whatever, I'm petty and shallow and insignificant. I get it."

"I never said you were that last one." I didn't say it aloud in case I pronounced it wrong. This was not the time for Caroline to correct me _again._ "Why, do _you_ think that?"

"What? No." Her knuckles clenched white around the steering wheel. "Okay, maybe a _little bit_. I mean, you live with the Originals. They're, like, a billion years old. They've seen the whole world and I've never even left Mystic Falls."

"Hey, they're _only_ a million years old," I corrected, as was our inside joke, and she giggled despite herself. "And besides, you're a vampire. You can do whatever you want now. Ain't nobody's going to stop you."

"Nobody is," she muttered under her breath, and I fought the urge to punch her perfect white teeth in. It was as if her only duty in life was to correct my grammar. She and Elijah were going to be the death of me. "But I get your point." The poor girl gnawed on her lip as she pulled into Klaus's long driveway. "Why am I doing this? Klaus is horrible. He's a monster."

"Not to me." Okay, it was _mostly_ the truth. I had to talk him up, anyhow, or else they'd never fall in love and get married and live happily ever after. Duh. "And not to you."

"He tried to have me killed," she bit.

"And then he saved your life."

"It doesn't count when he put it in jeopardy in the first place."

I eyed her knowingly. "Did you keep the bracelet and drawing he gave you?" Dead silence. "Ah ha. If you hate him so much, then why'd you keep those?"

She reached for her seat belt and unbuckled it as slowly as physically possible, trying to avoid the question. Finally, she muttered "Shut up" under her breath, and I reveled in my victory. She slung her sleeping bag around her shoulder as I exited the car. Klaus was walking down the driveway with an irritating smirk on his face. "I thought you said it would be the two of us," she hissed down at me, and all I could do was shrug helplessly.

"Caroline." There was something special about the way Klaus said her name, as if he savored each syllable while it fell from his lips like a prayer. "I heard about your father."

"I don't want to talk about it," she cut him off tersely, then softened. "Thanks for the pastry, though. I'm sure you've been to France more times than you can count."

Klaus's smirk returned. "I have. Paris is lovely this time of year. Dare I say, almost as lovely as you." If I had the ability to whistle, I would have. That man was _smooth._ All I had to do was bring her to him and he could work his magic on her. Gah _damn._

The slightest tinge of crimson blossomed in Caroline's porcelain cheeks. He caught her off guard. "Yes, well," she cleared her throat, "thank you, I guess."

"You're welcome, I guess." Turning her nose up in the air, Caroline stalked toward down the driveway. Klaus, meanwhile, lifted me up and propped me onto his hip. Instantly, I was suspicious. Klaus never picked me up without a good reason. "What are you playing at?" he breathed into my ear, quietly enough that even with Caroline's vampire hearing, she wouldn't be able to eavesdrop. "Because, from my perspective, a rather _naughty_ little girl is getting herself involved in matters that don't involve her."

Well, he wasn't wrong. I leaned my head against his shoulder so he couldn't see my own smirk - jeez, I'd been spending _way_ too much time with his family, even Finn smirked like it was his job - and whispered back, "Your perspective is dumb and so are you."

"Is that so?" His quick, nimble fingers found their way under my arms and he began to tickle me without a smidgen of mercy. "And to think, I thought we enjoyed each other's company due to our shared intellect, but _color me surprised,"_ I shrieked with laughter as he dug into my ribcage, and Caroline spun around, a clearly fought-against but still infectious smile tugging at her lips, "that evidently I'm incorrect!"

"F-Fine!" I howled between giggles, "you're not stupid, you're smart!" He stopped immediately, and just like that, set me down on my feet. Mischievously, I revealed crossed fingers from behind my back, and he narrowed his eyes. Before he could do anything, I bolted behind Caroline. "Save me!"

"You're in for it this time," Klaus growled, but there was a clear note of amusement in his tone. He blurred forward, placing his hands on each side of Caroline's hips. She opened her mouth to protest, but before she could, he physically moved her out of the way. "Apologies, love. I have a miscreant to attend to."

Smiling from ear to ear, I pounced on him before he could make the first move, clinging onto his back and winding my arms around my neck. "You can't catch me," I taunted into his dark, close-cropped blond hair. "You can't catch me, you can't catch me, you can't catch m- _oof._ " He somehow managed to flip me over his shoulder and pin me against his chest. My head spun. "Hey, that's not fair!"

"All is fair in love and war, sweetheart," Klaus remarked. Didn't Katherine say the same thing? Dang, they _were_ similar.

Latching onto his words, I grinned an evil smile and wiggled my eyebrows up at him. "Aw, 'cause you _loooooooooove_ me?" He didn't bother to respond, but something warm and soft and real entered his ocean-blue eyes. He didn't need to say anything at all. I knew then and there he loved me. "I love you too," I whispered, and he gave me a gentle squeeze.

His eyes flashed gold, and my wolf stirred inside me, my eyes surely reflecting his. A growl rumbled deep in his chest, and he clutched me closer to him. I echoed his growl, albeit at a much higher octave. His lips twitched upward.

"Any day now," Caroline grumbled from ahead, although she was smiling too. Unfortunately, as Klaus returned her gaze, a flash of color caught his eye - which happened to be my red Converse shoe dangling from my bedroom window from over a week back. He arched a brow.

"Gracie, sweetheart, why is one of your shoes attached to the second story rooftop?"

Well, I was boned. I shrugged, and he raised his other eyebrow. "I dunno," I mumbled, staring at a _very interesting_ thread of string poking from his shirt collar. "It was when you were being mean, so I snuck out and saved Caroline and you were being mean and I fell off the roof and did I mention you were being mean -"

"You _fell_ off the roof?" Klaus and Caroline echoed at the same time. I buried my face in Klaus's shoulder to hide my mischievous grin. They sounded like disgruntled parents scolding their unruly child - me. Part of it was my imagination running wild, but I could make something out of that. Something good. Something _great_. "Bloody hell," Klaus continued, as I didn't utter a peep, "did you hurt yourself?"

"I only broke my wrists a little bit." I cringed at their mutual unimpressed expressions. "I healed quick."

"Quickly," Caroline muttered under her breath, and I gave her the death glare of the century. My hands were itching to wrap around her pretty ivory threat, and slowly but surely _squeeze the life out of -_

"Now, now, sweetheart, no need to kill with any looks," Klaus chided. Evidently, though, he let it roll off his shoulders. "No changing it now. Sneak out again and you'll sleep with the fishes." Caroline's features fell slack, and he rolled his eyes. "I'm kidding, love. It's been known to happen."

"Oh yeah, you're a real jokester," she deadpanned. "Such the comedian. I'll make sure to tell Elena and what's left of her family." _Ouch._ Klaus's smile faded, and Caroline flipped her waves of blonde hair over her left shoulder, straightening her spine. "Well. Are we going to stand out here all day, or are you going to show me inside?"

Klaus led the way inside the mansion. I eagerly anticipated Caroline's reaction. Despite all of Klaus's flaws, he had a true eye for art, and no matter how much most people loathed his very existence, they couldn't deny it. Proving my prediction correct, her eyes popped wide and sparkled in wonder at the glorious mansion interior. "Oh . . . wow."

Klaus could have looked a little less smug about it, but she was impressed, and that was what mattered. My stomach sank as Bekah strolled in from another room. As much as I adored her, she and Caroline were a shitstorm waiting to happen. And the only reason she was greeting the younger blonde was to rile her up. Thankfully, I listened hard for other heartbeats, and only heard Elijah in the library and Esther and Finn somewhere further off on the second floor.

"Caroline." Bekah's lips pulled apart into a sharp, fake smile as she reached us. "How lovely it is to see you again."

Caroline mirrored her, and I saw the "mean girl" personas unfolding from both of them. Throw in Regina George and it'd be a _real_ party. "Rebekah. Likewise."

"It's delightful how you've decided to befriend our little Gracie here," Bekah continued, not even _trying_ to hide her possessiveness. "She does have a way of seeing the best," her eyes raked up and down Caroline's form, aloof, "in people."

Caroline's hands flew to her hips. "Gee, I wonder how she managed that with you." Bekah's smile twisted into a grimace.

"You are in our home," Bekah hissed, her blue eyes glinting dangerously. "Show some respect."

"I call it like I see it," Caroline retorted. The two girls crossed their arms at the same time, donning similar expressions of hearty distaste.

Klaus's intent gaze flitted between the two blondes as he stood there, thoroughly amused. "The claws are out and sharpened, I see."

"Oh, shut up," Caroline snapped right as Bekah bit, "Cram it, Nik." Normally, if Klaus wasn't in such a pleasant mood, that could have gone _terribly_ _wrong_ , in which both girls would end up injured or maimed or dead somehow. Luckily, Klaus maintained his good humor.

"Did I touch a nerve?"

"All right, all right!" I interrupted, done with all their stupid drama. Before any feelings could be hurt or skulls stomped on, I tugged on Caroline's hand away from the two devious Mikaelsons and into the kitchen as Bekah rolled her eyes after us.

Kol had made me breakfast this morning because he felt guilty - well, he didn't, but he pretended to for Elijah's sake - for almost killing me and all that. He apparently liked to cook, and he did it well, because the cabinets were stocked full of ingredients of every variety. Including a brownie mix Klaus compelled one of his servants to buy on my behalf.

"Let's bake stuff!" I cried, plopping down onto the floor and beginning to unload the brownie supplies. Truth be told, I was a disaster in the kitchen, inherited from my daddy, but it was still fun. Like science experiments, but somewhat edible - depending on how badly I burnt it.

"Do you know how to bake?" Caroline inquired dubiously. She crossed her arms and cocked her hips. "Because if you think I'm doing all the work, you're mistaken, little miss."

I batted my eyelashes at her, all innocent-like. "Of course I'll help."

Caroline tweaked a brow. "Mmmhmm."

* * *

 **Twenty Minutes Later . . .**

I did help. Sort of. If "help" was defined as blasting Disney songs from Caroline's laptop and dancing wildly around the kitchen, often getting in her way as she actually attempted to bake. "Hakuna matataaaa, what a wonderful phraaaaze -"

I pointed at her, grinning, for her to sing the second verse, and she sang quietly as she cracked eggs into the bowl, "Hakuna matata, ain't no passing craze . . . It means no worries, for the rest of your days." Playfully, she tossed her hair back and forth in the rhythm of her stirs. "It's our problem-free philosophy . . . Hakuna matata!" Reaching over, she smudged flour onto my nose from where I sat on the floor, making me giggle. "Start it off, kiddo. Why, when he was a young warthog!"

I sucked in a deep breath, wetting my lips. "When I was a young _warthoooOOOOOoooooooog_ -"

"Our very own little prima donna," drifted from the doorway, where a greatly amused Klaus loomed. "Honestly, sweetheart, sing louder - I don't believe the rest of Mystic Falls heard you." I wrinkled my nose up at him, deciding to take offense, and he glided in, flicking me on the forehead as he went by. "Making suitable use of our kitchen, Caroline? You seem to be making yourself right at home." He gestured to the mess of flour and egg shells and butter on the counter.

Caroline brushed off his backhanded remarks, turning off the music. "If you're here to sneak a taste of our brownies, then you'll be sorely disappointed," she informed him.

"It's my house, love," he said, folding his hands behind his back in his "I'm saying something clever and diabolical and superior" stance. "My ingredients."

"Yeah, well, that's what you think." She continued to stir vigorously. "You can eat it when the rest of us do. Just because you're a psychotic, homicidal maniac doesn't mean you have special brownie privileges."

Klaus drew a hand dramatically to his chest. "You wound me, Caroline! Oh, how you _loathe_ me." He leaned in over her shoulder, brushing up against her and making her cringe. "Tell me. Does it ever get exhausting up on your high horse?"

Caroline sniffed, jutting her chin outward in a display of stubbornness. "No. There's a nice breeze up here." He chuckled lowly, and she shifted away from him. "Now, if you don't mind, Gracie and I are baking."

Klaus glanced down at me. "I wasn't aware this was a joint effort."

I furrowed my brow and huffed. "I'll have you know that -"

"That does smell delicious, Caroline," he talked smoothly over me, and I squawked. "I must know. What will you do once you finish with them, eat them yourself or prance along and hand them off to orphans and hungry squirrels?"

"So you think I'm all self-righteous?" she retorted. "Hardly. You're just wrong about everything."

"Everything, love? I find that hard to believe. I've survived this long, after all."

She turned towards him for the first time in the conversation, pushing the bowl away. "Completely based off your wits and charm, I assume."

"You assume correctly."

"Oh, hardy har har."

"I cannot help the truth, sweetheart."

"Yeah, _your_ truth -"

I had to stop myself from throwing up my hands into a victorious fist pump. They were talking. _They were talking_. And she wasn't dying from a werewolf bite this time. It was like a dream come true.

Sly as a fox, I shuffled over to the laptop as they continued to bicker - Klaus with mirth, Caroline with mild annoyance - and scrolled through her Disney playlist. Finally arriving onto my desired song, I pressed it and then slunk out of the kitchen. " _Percussion. Strings. Winds. Words."_ They didn't notice, and grinning, I left the two lovebirds to themselves.

" _There you see her_." I scrambled up the main, winding staircase. " _Sitting there across the way."_ As I tuned in to their conversation, I tripped over a step and face-planted, nearly killing myself - but quickly recovered. " _She don't got a lot to say."_ My chin ached. " _But there's something about her_."

Once I reached the second floor, mostly intact, I ducked behind a bannister and waited eagerly for the magic to begin. " _And you don't know why_ , _but you're dying to try, you wanna kiss the girl."_

'Kiss the goddamn girl, Klaus,' I almost shouted downstairs, but caught myself at the last second. That would ruin the moment. " _Yes, you want her_." He totally did. " _Look at her, you know you do_." Duh. She was gorgeous. " _It's possible she wants you too_." Humph, please. A little more than just _possible_. It was _destiny_ all the way. " _There's only one way to ask her_." I clasped my hands together like an evil genius, because dammit, that was what I was. " _It don't take a word, not a single word. Go on and kiss the girl . . ."_

"Kiss the girl," I whispered into the polished wood of the bannister. "Kiss the girl, Klaus, you doof, kiss the freakin' girl -"

"Grace?"

I couldn't help myself. I jumped, and banged my head against the wall, groaning. "Aw, shit!"

Elijah stood over me with a deep frown. " _Language_ , little girl - honestly, who taught you such profanity?" I shrugged, sheepish; lots of people had. My daddy being a prime suspect. Shaking his head at me disapprovingly, he continued, "What in the world are you doing?"

I opened my mouth but no words came out. How could I possibly explain myself? Elijah then listened to the lyrics of the song floating up the stairs, and the tiniest of understanding smirks graced his lips. "Oh, you little troublemaker."

I squeaked in protest as he scooped me up from the floor, positioning me up onto his hip. "Now, now, child," he chided without any real heat, walking down the staircase with me safely in his clutch, "it's not polite to meddle."

"I'm not meddling." He gave me a _look_ , one of those 'I know exactly what you're doing so cut the shit' looks that adults so often rewarded me with. I jutted out my lower lip in one of my best puppy-dog pouts, but it had no effect on him. He was made of stronger stuff. "Maybe a _little bit_."

"Hmm. Take heed to limit yourself."

"I will!" Hiding a smile, I crossed my fingers behind his back.

* * *

 _I was running for my life as fast as I could. Someone was after me, a man. He wanted to hurt me. He wanted to hurt me really bad. "Graaaaacciiie. Graaaaaciiiiee Luuuuccciiiillleeeee."_

 _I entered a room, in which the walls were covered from floor to ceiling with cupboards. Relief charged through me at the sight of all the hiding spots. I dove forward, and reached for the nearest one, pulling it back and - It didn't budge. Much to my horror, it was glued to the wall._

 _I tried the next one. It was equally stuck. Then the next one, and the next one, and the next one -_

" _Graaaaaccciiiiie. Come out and play!"_

 _I spun around, gasping, as a hand clamped down on my shoulder. My uncle's youthful, leering face hovered over me, and hands sprouted from all over his body, hands that pinned me to the floor and touched me and brought me terror._

 _And then there was the knife. The lone, gleaming deli knife that rested in the middle of the tiled floor, the only item in the whole room. It was waiting for me, waiting, waiting, waiting -_

 _Somehow, I squirmed away from him, and lunged for the knife. My fingers found its cool, rough handle, and then my body moved of its own accord. I twisted around, and forced the knife into his chest, his protests muffled by the blood that gurgled from his lips._

 _He disappeared, replaced by my mama, who glared down at me with an emotion that could only be described as pure hatred. She hit me, hit, hit, hit, hit - and then she took the knife. My mouth opened into a soundless scream as she stuck it into my belly._

" _Please, no," I begged as she yanked it back out, the blade glimmering and dripping crimson with my blood._

" _You killed my brother," was all she said before she jammed it into my chest, and I died._

* * *

I jolted upward, soaked in an icy sweat, clutching onto Bekah the bear. My chest lifted to and fro with my rapid, strained breaths, and a phantom pain lingered where the knife had entered. Beside me, Caroline slept peacefully, unbothered by my tossing and turning.

After Elijah had deposited me back into the kitchen, Caroline and I finished baking while Klaus disappeared off somewhere, much to my frustration. She saved a good deal of brownies for herself, but packed up the rest for the Originals as something of a parting gift after trashing their kitchen.

The rest of the day was uneventful, most of it spent watching movies on my bed. Somewhere between _The Emperor's New Groove_ and _The Jungle Book_ , we both fell asleep.

Which then lead to my nightmare. I used to have a lot more of them, but they stopped eventually - talking about it with Caroline seemed to bring them back.

Klaus. I wanted Klaus. Where was Klaus? As quietly as possible, I swung my legs over the bed and tiptoed to my door, listening and smelling for him. Kol was missing. Rebekah was asleep. Elijah was in the library again. The others were tucked away somewhere. But Klaus? He was gone too, I realized with disappointment, although his scent was fresher than Kol's. He must've just stepped out.

I decided to wait for him. Lately, he'd been spending a good deal of his time in the study, where he sorted all of his affairs and the like. He never told me much about that. He said he didn't want to bore me, but I didn't think that was the real reason. His "affairs" were never good. His "affairs" ended up with a lot of dead people.

As I shuffled down the hallway, I contemplated waking up Bekah, but chose not to. She was awfully cranky when she didn't get her preferred sleep. Then, I considered Elijah. But he was so logical and level-headed that I didn't know how to put my jumbled emotions into words, as he would make me do. Klaus would understand. He was the same way as me.

I entered the study, comforted by Klaus's distinct canine smell. Sweat was still beaded on my forehead, and rolled down my back in little droplets. I didn't know how to explain the nightmare to him, but I _needed_ him.

I sat down on the couch, pulling my knees to my chest. It was hard to imagine a world without Klaus in it now, and I'd only known him around a month and a half. And yet, he viewed me as his daughter, and somehow, deep inside me, entangled in my grief for my real daddy, I was beginning to see him as a father. It was confusing, and I didn't know what to think about it. It made me want to punch him, but also hug him.

It was _complicated_.

Lost in my thoughts, I barely noticed the footsteps closing in on the study until it was almost too late. I tuned in my ears. Not Klaus. At the sound of the footsteps out the door, I hurried over to the large red-tinted desk and ducked under it. Just in time, it turned out, because a man and woman pair - Finn and Esther, I deduced with a healthy sniff - stepped inside. My heart began to pound like a jackhammer inside my chest. Finn was an Original vampire. There was no way in _hell_ he couldn't hear me.

"Are we alone?" Esther asked meaningfully. _Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes -_

Finn paused for a moment, but then - "Yes." He was lying for me. I knew I liked him for a reason.

"Good." She rummaged through something on top of the desk, and I draped my fingers over my nose and mouth to cover the sound of my hitched breaths. A weird, burnt herbal smell drifted from upward. "This conversation is now private."

"It need not be, Mother. You know my stance on the matter. I intend not to change my mind." On _what_ matter? And did either of them know how to speak like a normal human being?

"Niklaus murdered me," her voice tightened in anger, "and put you in a coffin for nine hundred years, my son. The rest of them have murdered countless innocents. They are the definition of evil."

Um, that's not what she'd been yammering on about _before_. What the heckin' heck happened to forgiveness and being a family again? I _knew_ she wasn't trustworthy. "I do not disagree with you, especially regarding Niklaus," Finn eventually replied. Outrage flooded through me in a tsunami of anger. They were wrong. Klaus did a lot of bad things. Could I deny that? Nah. I'd be blind to ignore all of - and there were a _lot_ \- his faults. But he wasn't evil. He loved me, and anyone who was capable of love wasn't truly evil.

"Then where do your objections spawn from?" Esther asked impatiently. There was a sharp intake of breath, of realization. "It's the little girl, isn't it? The savage wolf child."

Why, I never - that _bitch._ "Her name is Grace," Finn said, and the coldness in his response surprised me. It sounded almost if her insulting me offended him. "And yes, it has to do with her."

"She is on their side, Finn." There was an underlying steel in her tone. "She is our enemy."

Finn slammed his fist onto the surface of the desk, and the entire thing rattled above me, causing me to clamp down on my tongue. I swore viciously in my head as the metallic taste of blood washed over my tastebuds. "She is kind to me."

My heart nearly snapped into two then and there. Whatever horrible thing Esther was planning, Finn was against it because I had been _kind_ to him. He had been treated so poorly his whole life that me spending a couple of hours not shitting all over him was enough to sway his opinion entirely. Tears pricked at the back of my eyes. He wasn't asking for much at all. _God_ , he just wanted someone to be nice to him.

Esther's voice sharpened with contempt. "You are deluding yourself, my son. Do not stray from the path of righteousness because some insignificant little girl," _Well, fuck you too, Mama Mikaelson_ , I thought, "has paid a sliver of attention to you. It is a petty matter."

"Kindness is not a petty matter." Something hardened in Finn. "It has so much more meaning than you can comprehend. Whilst she has shown me kindness in the last matter of days, you have not. Why should I continue to side with you?" _You go, Finn!_ I cheered along silently.

"Kindness will not finish the job." What _job_? Hurting the Mikaelsons? Daggering them all? Killing them . . . _permanently_? "And what difference is it that she is kind to you? She is not your sibling, and she will not be affected by our plan."

"It's not just that, Mother," he argued. "She brings out the best in them, too. The rest of your children. With her presence, they act more as they did when they were human, when we were a real family. It makes me remember a time when I did love them, and they loved me." A single tear rolled down my cheek, and I didn't bother to wipe it away. "And who is to say she will not be affected? She loves Niklaus and Rebekah, most certainly. Removing them from her life would break her heart and leave her alone. I'm afraid I cannot stand for that. I will not help you, Mother."

There was a long, tense silence that followed, where I feared she would discover me under the desk. But she didn't. Instead, she said curtly, "Very well, then. It appears I cannot change your mind. You disappoint me, Finn. We are finished here." Something _squished_ on top of the desk, and the smell of burnt herbs began to fade away. With nothing else to be said, she walked briskly out the door and shut it quietly behind her.

There was another brief pause. "Grace, I know you are there," Finn said, and I scooted out from under the desk, wide-eyed. Sighing, he moved around the desk and kneeled down to my level. "I implore you to not tell anyone, child. I have this handled. Nothing bad will happen to them."

I chewed on my lip, unsettled. "She won't hurt them?"

He placed his hands down on my shoulders. "I will not let her. Promise me you will not say anything. Let me fix this."

Hesitantly, I wound my arms around his neck, and nodded into his soft, denim-clad shoulder. "I promise, Finn."

It took a moment for Finn to hug me back, but he did, squeezing me ever so gently in his arms. "Thank you," he breathed. I only hoped I wouldn't live to regret it. Because if Klaus found out we were lying to him, if something bad could have been prevented, then . . . there would be hell to pay.

I didn't sleep for the rest of the night.

 **A/N: So, what'd you guys think? I told you it was dark in certain places, but lighter in others. How do you think the shift in Finn's character arc will change the story? Tell me in the reviews! :D**


	11. Liar, Liar, Hybrid on Fire

**A/N: It's Thanksgiving break here in the states, and I just finished with finals' week. It sucked. It sucked so much, you guys. Four AP classes is no piece of cake.**

 **You guys. O.M.G. Your reviews last chapter ... I spazzed so. Many. Times. You made me so freaking happy. 118 reviews. 118! Holy moly guacamole. And not only that, but 199 favorites, and 268 follows! Omigawwwwwwrrrdddddd. The response to this story has been spectacular. Spectacular, I say!** **I'm so glad that you guys liked the last chapter! I was feeling insecure about it, but you guys washed my fears away.**

 **Now, this story has had a few continuity errors/plot holes. In chapter 1, I made the mistake of forgetting that there was a full moon, and I made the even bigger mistake of forgetting that werewolves in the human form could not bite vampires. I'd like to issue a special thanks to time-twlight for PM'ing me and pointing that out. Seriously, what a bro. Also, if you're a female, I apologize, I live on the American West Coast where literally everyone is known as "dude" or "bro."**

 **Anyway, I digress. I tweaked a couple things in chapter 1 (like playing up the shock that Grace bit Stefan, lol), but this actually allowed me to combine a few plot ideas I had, as I was struggling for inspiration. So this is a good thing! This chapter reveals said plot point about Grace not being a normal werewolf.**

 **Also, the cool Mikaelson ball thing will happen, just not _quite_ yet.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything but Grace, and I certainly don't own _The Scarlet Letter_. **

**Chapter 11: Liar, Liar, Hybrid on Fire**

Green fields and old brown fence posts blurred past in a smear of earth as we sped along the road. The sun beat on us from above in its relentless rays, not a cloud in the sky, and sweat trickled down my back and slicked my brow. The engine roared like an angry lion, threatening to burst my ears open.

I clutched onto the man's waist, my arms wrapped as far around his middle as they would reach. His leather jacket smelled musky, with a faint tang of blood that must've never come out in the wash. That, or he was drinking still. I wondered if he was off the good stuff yet. Human blood.

Only the changing state signs gave me any notice to how far we'd traveled. We'd long-since left Mystic Falls, and had cut into the border of Kentucky by two in the afternoon, making record time. We were pulled over twice, but each time the man compelled the cops easily away, and we kept up our pace of thirty odd miles over the speed limit.

Worry had long since rooted itself deep into my belly, but I fought to stuff it down. This had to happen. There was no other way. I had to find out what was wrong with me once and for all. Klaus should've said something long ago, and he didn't. Nobody did. They were all liars.

It was up to me to discover the truth.

"You okay back there, kid?" the man said loudly, raising his voice over the ear-splitting engine of the motorcycle. He glanced back at me for a brief moment, his green eyes keen and perceptive.

Leaning my helmet-protected head against his back, I kept my gaze glued to the seemingly endless sea of pastures. It was beautiful, but somehow, I wasn't really seeing it. "Yeah, I'm okay." At least I would be, until Klaus found out where I was headed, and who I was with.

Then I was dead.

* * *

 **Five Hours Before**

"Now, tell me, little one. Why is Hester Prynne made to stand in front of the townsfolk and wear the scarlet letter?"

I squinted my eyes at the old, yellowed page. "I dunno. She stole something?"

Elijah, to his credit, remained endlessly patient. "There is no evidence in the text to support that theory. Read more carefully."

Suppressing a woeful sigh, I reread the passages, fighting off an enormous yawn. Reading was one of my favorite hobbies, but I wasn't so sure about this book. _Harry Potter_ was a whole lot more fun. Who in their right mind would name their kid Hester, anyhow? Nobody. _Nobody_.

Caroline had slipped out of the house early the next morning, and I was bone tired. Unfortunately, Elijah picked this morning to decide that Klaus's way of _educating_ me was "unsuitable" and found a classic for me to read and use "critical thinking skills." It was hard enough to stay awake while reading it, but to think hard about it too? _Ugh_.

Whatever this Hester lady did, the crime seemed serious. "She killed someone?" I suggested hopefully, but Elijah shook his head again.

"No. She is holding an infant." An infant? What infant? I hurriedly scanned the page once more. Oh. _That_ infant. I should've caught that the first time around, but it was just so _boring_. "Why is that significant?"

I drummed my fingers against the leather couch of the study that Finn and I had conspired in only the night before. It was a little distracting to remember, honestly. I promised him I wouldn't say anything, but Esther was acting awful - _awfully_ , dammit Elijah - weird at breakfast. If Finn wasn't on her side, though, then she wouldn't do anything - or so Finn seemed to believe. I wasn't so sure, though. From what I'd heard of her, she was powerful. Maybe she didn't need Finn's help at all.

Still, I decided to give Finn the benefit of the doubt. The second Esther acted _too_ suspicious for my liking, though, I was heading straight for Klaus - no ands, ifs, or buts. The only thing that was stopping me _now_ was Finn, and a battle of conflicting morals warred inside of me. I promised Finn to keep it secret, but what if it was life or death? Then didn't that make the promise useless? But who was I to decide if it was life or death? Finn didn't think so, and he was a lot older and wiser than me. But then again, he'd been in a coffin for nine hundred years, so maybe his mind was all muddled. How was I supposed to know what was right or wrong?

Needless to say, I was stressed out beyond belief, and my eight-year-old shoulders felt weighed down by all the pressure. My back threatened to break into two. All I wanted to do was tell someone - Klaus, Bekah, Elijah - but I couldn't. I promised him. I _promised_.

"Grace." I jumped in my seat. Oh, right, I was supposed to be reading _The Scarlet Letter._ "Think."

I shrugged, not into it at all. I felt like screaming in his face that I had better things to be worrying over, but I had an inkling that wouldn't blow over well with him. "I dunno. She killed the baby's parents?"

Elijah pulled a strange face, as if he was struggling to understand how I came to that conclusion. ". . . No. The text is implying that she is without a husband. Why is that important?"

A light bulb shone bright over my head. "She murdered her husband and tried to steal their baby but they caught her. C'mon. That's gotta be it." Elijah's peculiar expression only deepened. Was he judging me? It looked a helluva lot like he was judging me. I didn't like it when people judged me. Not one damn bit.

He cleared his throat. "Your suggestions are unnecessarily morbid." Oh, so that's why he was looking at me all funny. He thought I was too _dark_ for a kid my age. Well, he wouldn't be the first or the last person to think that. "Hester had a baby out of wedlock, and she is being put on trial in front of the town because of that. The _A_ on her chest stands for adultery."

Huh. Whatever. I liked my explanation better. It would be more interesting to read, I thought. "So?" I asked, dubious about his analysis. "Who cares? Why's she on trial for _that_?"

"This took place in the early seventeenth century. It was a very different time, then. In this area, Puritans were in control and had extremely strict guidelines for civil conduct."

"That's dumb. She didn't do anything _that_ bad. It's not like she murdered the baby's parents or whatever or hurt the baby. Unless she _does_ kill the baby. That would be bad."

Elijah set the book aside, and I could hear the gears turning in his brain. He wanted to ask me something, and didn't know how to put it. "Grace, why do you jump to such violent conclusions before anything else? It's a little . . . disconcerting at such a young age."

I blinked at him. What was he trying to say? Was he insulting me? He better not have been insulting me. "What does discn - disconer - disconcer -" Frustrated, I wrung my fingers together. "What does _that_ mean?"

"It means unsettling." Oh. That one I knew. "Little one . . ." I could tell he was speaking very, very carefully, and I braced myself for the worst. "How much violence have you been exposed to in your stay here?"

What the hell kind of question was that? They were all thousand-year old homicidal maniacs. Did he think I'd been living in the _Sesame Street_ this entire time? How much violence _had_ I been exposed to?

What had happened to me over the course of a month and a half? What had I seen, heard?

Klaus killed people in front of me left and right. All those botched hybrids. He killed my daddy for the first time on that pool table. Snapped his neck. Stefan tortured my daddy with wolfsbane darts, and killed him for the second and last time, carrying his dead body back into camp. Rebekah drained that poor, innocent man in the warehouse, and snapped Caroline's neck at the high school. When we left Mystic Falls after securing Elena's blood, Klaus spanked me and scared me. He killed some more werewolves to make more hybrids across the country. Back in Mystic Falls, Mikael stabbed me in the back, and I almost bled out. Klaus hit me across the face and made me bleed after I tried to stake him. Stefan murdered Mindy the hybrid. I still remembered the sound of her head _thumping_ from upstairs as he lopped it off her shoulders. Tyler bit Caroline. I heard her scream. Elijah himself, who was the only one bothering to ask the question, removed Daniel's heart, and flipped me onto a table, choking me. Kol threw me into a wall, and choked me too. Kol drove his car into a tree, and I smashed my head into the window. I had to rinse the blood out of my hair like it was normal. Because it was normal to me.

Well, yeah, there was all that. "A little," I said shortly.

He obviously didn't believe me. Which was sort of good, because if he did, then he'd be a goddamn idiot and I didn't like spending my time with goddamn idiots. "How is it affecting you?" he asked, all concerned-like.

How was I supposed to know? I didn't even include all the stuff _before_ I met Klaus, like when my uncle tried to hurt me, I killed him, and my own mama tried to murder me. That had to count for something.

His question shifted everything into a strange perspective for me. I had never really before considered how much I had genuinely seen and how much I had been exposed to compared to most other people. It was confronting. I didn't like it. It made me feel . . . wrong.

Why did I have to go through so much crap? Was I a bad person or something? Is that why my mama didn't love me? Was it me all along? It made my heart ache. Was I just _unloveable_?

I didn't know, but I sure hoped not. My only friends were vampires or hybrids, in Klaus's case, who had all murdered at least _somebody_ at some point in time. They cared about me - Klaus, Rebekah, Caroline, Elijah, Finn, even Kol - but they were all creatures of death and destruction, even if they acted against their nature, like Caroline or Finn.

I wondered all along how this was my life, how I attracted people like that. How only murderers loved me. Maybe it wasn't them. Maybe it was me. Maybe the world wanted me to be violent and twisted and malevolent, like Klaus. He promised to turn me into a hybrid in ten years time, and I knew what that meant. I'd be immortal. Strong - stronger than a normal vampire. Bloodthirsty.

Maybe I was meant for it all along. And I hated myself for it.

"I dunno," I mumbled, which was the truth. I didn't know, but more importantly, I didn't _want_ to know. "Can I go now?"

Elijah exhaled hard through his nose. "No. Answer me, please."

A strange, tight feeling swelled up in my chest. My heart felt contracted and squeezed from all sides. The walls seemed closer than before, and threatened to close in. My knees bounced up and down of their own accord. My skin itched. "I wanna leave."

His steady, dark-eyed gaze sharpened. He folded his hands together and placed them on the surface of the desk. Clearly, he was done with any and all nonsense, but then again, so was I. "You will stay here and answer the question."

My hands were trembling. It felt like ants were crawling beneath my skin. Something was brewing deep in my belly, coiling, waiting to explode. No, _wanting_ to explode. It was begging Elijah to continue, begging him to set me off. Begging to unleash itself in all its wrath.

My fingernails dug into the bed of my palms, and I jumped to my feet, making a determined path towards the closed study door. Downstairs, I heard the low murmur of voices, and it sounded an awful lot like Klaus and Bekah were debating quietly whether or not to should join in the fray or to let Elijah "handle me." I growled inwardly. Whatever, if they weren't gonna take my side, then I didn't want them to butt in.

"Grace," Elijah said warningly, up from his chair in an instant. He was intimidating, to say the least. "Sit back down." Ignoring him, I reached for the door handle. Whatever patience he had left then disappeared into thin air, and he raised his voice. "Grace Sutton, open that door and you will regret it."

He was serious. Dead serious. What would he do if I opened the door? Would he hit me like Klaus did? He didn't seem like that kind of man, but then again, he didn't seem like a murderer either and he ripped out a heart in front of me.

Klaus and Rebekah were stirring downstairs again, and it sounded as if they were heading towards the staircase, but before they even reached the first step, I paused in my movements, chancing a peek behind me, and everything about Elijah - his tone, his posture, his expression - softened. "You can talk to me, little one. I am here to listen."

I didn't know what went through me, then. Honestly, I didn't. Maybe it was my forced self-reflection, or over a month's worth of stress and heartache and trauma, including - _especially_ \- my talk with Caroline and my horrible nightmare the night before along with Esther's betrayal with the secret that I now had to keep, that spilled over at Elijah's prompting. Maybe, just maybe, I'd been dangling over the edge the entire time, and all it took was a little push from Elijah to send me right over.

I snapped.

"What do you want me to say?" I shouted, every painful emotion rooted inside of me ripping itself out. It didn't matter to me that the house was chock full of Originals who could all overhear me, two of whom were now darting up the staircase. I was _done_.

Elijah's eyes widened at the strength of my reaction. Evidently, that wasn't what he'd been expecting. Unfazed, I raged on, "That I'm _fine_ with all of the _crap_ I've been through? 'Cause I'm not! I'm not, I'm not, _I'm not_! I'm eight years old and my daddy's dead and my mama left me and y'all keep killing people _all the damn time_! Your crazy-ass father almost killed me but nobody ever talks about that and everything's happening all at once and everyone kills everyone and I don't even like _The Scarlet Letter_ -"

The study door burst open, and Klaus and Bekah stood in the doorway, both looking more than a little startled at my outburst. "Gracie -" Bekah began.

" _Go away!_ " I screeched, but I deflated when I observed the hurt flicker across Bekah's face. "Leave me alone," I said, quieter this time. Hot, salty tears welled up in my eyes. "Just leave me alone."

Klaus moved forward and kneeled in front of me. I tried to jerk away, but he clamped his hands onto my shoulders, and locked me in place. "Hey," he said softly, refusing to budge as I continued to try and pull away from him. "Hey," he repeated, a little firmer the second time around. "Enough with this."

The tears that had been brewing in my eyes spilled over the brim, streaming down my cheeks. Klaus's face softened, and he murmured, "Hey," again, brushing some of the relentless moisture from my face. "What's wrong, sweetheart? One second you were fine, and then -" He flourished a hand up and down my shaking form.

"I'm not fine," I managed to ground out through gritted teeth and hitched breaths. "I was never fine."

"What are you talking about?" Bekah asked, crouching down next to Klaus, taking one of my hands in hers and caressing the back of it. Her bright blue eyes were filled with concern. "You were all smiles and laughter in the last number of days." Her expression and voice overshadowed with even more hurt. "Were you not? Were you pretending, for our sake?"

"No," I mumbled, and both she and Klaus loosened slightly in relief.

"You're Klaus's little girl," she said kindly, and I stiffened, but she didn't notice. "My new niece. You're family now. We all want you to be happy."

I stood there, in the middle of the room, tears still rolling down my cheeks, with Klaus grasping onto my shoulders and Bekah onto my hand and Elijah hovering not far behind me . . . and I felt more vulnerable and alone than ever. If I had known what would've happened once I spoke my true feelings, then I wouldn't have said anything at all. I would have continued to lie to Elijah's stupid questions and continued to read the stupid book and continued to pretend that I was normal and whole and not hurting.

I should've known that nobody _really_ wanted to know what I was going through. Rebekah called me _Klaus's_ little girl. As if my daddy had never existed. As if he'd never died by Stefan's hands and Klaus's experiment. As if Klaus had adopted me into his family with nothing but good graces, when he orphaned me in the first place.

As if I didn't miss my daddy to the moon and back. As if my heart hadn't been and _still was_ in pieces after his death.

"You don't understand," I whispered, pulling away from the both of them, defeated. "None of you understand. Just leave me alone."

Before either of them could absorb the unintentional blow I'd just dealt them, Kol appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with raised eyebrows. Finn stood behind him, sympathy etched into his stance. "Finally, she's stopped with all the screaming," Kol said lightly, his obvious amusement at my breakdown only serving to annoy me. "But still, she keeps up with the dramatics."

"Kol, leave the child alone," Finn warned, but Kol continued on as if he hadn't spoken.

"You're all dealing with this terribly wrong," he sighed, as if he were being personally inconvenienced, and more anger stirred its ugly head inside me. "She just threw a tantrum, shouted at all three of you, and now you're pandering to her will. It's child psychology 1-0-1. Honestly, you lot, grow a pair."

"Oh, shut it, brother," Bekah snapped, standing up with Klaus and crossing her arms. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't I?" A low growl rumbled in my chest. Humor twinkled in Kol's chocolate brown eyes; he wasn't taking me seriously at all. He would regret that. "See? She's being disrespectful to her elder right now, and you won't do anything about it. What you need to do is not to give her want she wants." A smile touched his lips; whatever he was planning on saying next, he clearly found it funny. "What she _needs_ is a good, old-fashioned span-"

"Enough!" Klaus interrupted him right in time, and Bekah looked like she was about to slap him upside the head, while Finn glared at him. Elijah sighed, long and deep, and I couldn't help but wonder if he agreed with Kol. _Traitor_ , I thought aggressively.

"Rebekah's right," Finn told him, stepping into the room, half-blocking him from my sight - or vice versa. "You haven't the faintest clue of what you speak of."

Kol's smirk never left his face, and a haze of red started to bleed across my field of vision. My lips curled back into a snarl, and heat rose behind my eyes, assuredly flickering gold. "Grace, enough," Klaus commanded, asserting his alpha dominance over me and cutting off my rebellion cold.

But then Kol misstepped. He didn't mean to. Not really. At least, I didn't think so. He didn't anticipate the domino effect that was bound to happen. He only said it to jab at me. Rile me up. He probably didn't even mean for it to resonate more than a couple seconds before I insulted him back. And maybe it wouldn't have been such a big deal if I wasn't already at my limit. Maybe it wouldn't have mattered so much if I wasn't hurting so bad to begin with.

But he said it, and the world - the truth I created for myself - came crashing down around me.

"What are you going to do, pipsqueak? Are you going to attempt to bite me again? You won't catch me so off guard this time. _Yes_ , I was unprepared before because werewolves in their human forms can't bite vampires willy nilly, but you're a special little mutt, aren't you?"

There was silence then, as my mind went blank. That didn't make sense. Not at all. Werewolves could bite vampires. It was nature's advantage against a stronger, faster species. Daddy had said so. Paige's pack told me the same thing. Klaus hadn't told me otherwise and he witnessed me bite Stefan, Elijah, and Kol. There was nothing wrong with me. I was normal. All werewolves could do it . . . right?

Was there something wrong with me?

Klaus was the first one to break the silence as I stood there, struck dumb. "You blithering idiot!" His ire surprised even me as his eyes flashed amber. "You have no idea what you've just done!"

"You're a fool, brother," Finn condemned as Bekah called him a "moronic wanker," whatever that was.

It sounded as if I was underwater and they shouted at him above the surface; it was distorted and muted and surreal. As I grappled with denial and disbelief and dawning horror, I could almost hear the world burn around me.

"Leave, Kol," Elijah ordered, hard and unyielding as stone. "Before you make this worse than it already is."

Kol's smile disappeared, and an intense scowl replaced it. Clearly, he did not predict such a disastrous reaction to his throwaway remark. "You've chosen the stray over your own brother, have you? You've all known her for either a matter of weeks or days, and you choose her over _me_." His once glimmering brown eyes blazed wildfire. "Gee, when has that happened before?" He tapped a finger against his chin, as if pretending to mull it over.

" _Mention his name and you'll find a dagger in your heart!_ " Klaus bellowed, frightening me to the core and causing me to duck away from him. Ragged breaths tore through him; he was a far cry from the calm and stable man who tried to comfort me not minutes before. That was fatherly, caring Klaus. This was _normal_ Klaus.

The boy. It had to be that boy. The boy who Klaus adopted before me, around two hundred years ago. Elijah briefly mentioned him before. But why was Klaus so upset? Maybe he was dead, and Klaus wasn't over it yet. But if he died, then what was going to happen to me? Was I going to be killed one day too?

I shook my head of those thoughts. That didn't matter right now. What _mattered_ was that they were all hiding something from me. Something big. And it had to do with werewolves.

"It's not my fault you all collectively chose to lie to her," Kol replied after a moment, but it was a weak response, with no real fervor behind it. Even he realized he crossed a line.

"We're trying to protect her from the truth," Bekah hissed as if I wasn't standing right there.

"Oh, please." Kol snorted, tossing his head back in contempt. "You don't even know what the _truth_ is."

They all started yelling at each other then. Bekah screeched at her brother, cheeks coloring red, Klaus blurred forward and pinned him to a wall as he shouted in his face, Finn called them all barbarians, and Elijah tried his best to calm everyone down while also attempting to raise his voice above everyone else's to make himself heard, only contributing to the jumbled roar of arguing.

How could one morning have gone so wrong? But it wasn't just this morning, was it? No, it was _everything_ that had built up into a mountain of trauma and fear and confusion. I had been a lone mine in a field waiting - _wanting_ \- to explode, and all Elijah did was step in the wrong place.

It was because of me. I started this, just because I didn't want to read that goddamn book. So, it was my job to end it.

A strangled shout erupted from my throat. "STOP IT!" All eyes were drawn to me as I jumped onto the couch cushions, teeth bared, nostrils flared, fists balled. "Just . . . _stop it_. Stop pretending I'm not even here," I continued angrily, glaring at each of them one by one. "What're you all lying to me about?"

"Grace -" Elijah began in his best patronizing adult voice.

" _No_ , Elijah!" I interrupted, and he sighed again. "I want answers and I want them now. This is about me, so y'all better 'fess up."

They all exchanged secretive glances, even Kol. My fingers twitched; I was tempted to punch a hole in the wall or better, through one of their heads. "Grace, sit down," Klaus said, tugging me down by the hands to lower me down to a sitting position on the cushions. Shooting one last menacing glower over his shoulder at Kol, who rubbed his neck ruefully, Klaus kneeled in front of me and grasped me by the knees. "Sweetheart, do you remember that day at the Southern Comfort when you first told me you were a werewolf?"

I knew exactly what conversation he was talking about, and I decided to hold it against him. "Duh. That's the day you and Stefan killed my daddy. 'Course I remember."

Klaus drew in a deep breath. ". . . Right. Do you remember how surprised I was when you told me, and when you bit Stefan?"

I thought back to that fateful day, and remembered the shock that flitted across his handsome features as I told him I was an activated werewolf, and when I bit Stefan on the wrist. I brushed it off, since most other werewolves were surprised at my existence. I assumed it was because the transformations were so painful. "Yeah."

His next words hit me like a sledgehammer. "That's because child werewolves aren't simply _rare_ , they're nonexistent."

My eyes flickered from him to the rest of them, everyone peering down at me with some mixture of sympathy - even Kol, who seemed to all but hate me not minutes before. "T-That doesn't make any sense."

And it didn't. Because Paige's pack and Klaus's hybrids were awfully taken aback to meet me, but they didn't say anything about kid werewolves being _nonexistent_. Somebody would've told me. Right?

Unless they all lied to me. Every single one of them. Even Daddy.

Bekah moved to sit beside me on the couch, taking one of my hands between both of hers. "Gracie, child werewolves don't survive past the first transitions. Sometimes they live through the first two, but they _never_ make it past the third. Their bodies give out, and they die."

Something tickled at the back of my mind. A memory. A muddled, hidden memory that I hadn't realized was there until now. A flickering memory of being sick - really sick - after I first turned. A distant memory of sleeping in the back of Daddy's old Suburban with a blanket tucked to my chin as I shivered uncontrollably. A confused, weak memory of Daddy taking me to strangers with candles and weird-smelling plants, who spoke in a different language as they hovered over me.

It hurt. It _burned_. Whatever they did to me, I remembered screaming, begging for Daddy to make them stop, stop, stop . . . He stood near me, holding my hand, tears swimming in the ocean-blue eyes he passed down to me, telling me to be brave, to be strong . . .

Strong. Strong, strong, _strong._ I always thought I was strong, since the beginning. Strong enough to make it through the transitions and stay alive and healthy. That's what Daddy told me. But a nagging thought plucked at the far boundaries of my mind: maybe I wasn't.

My mind was playing tricks on me, combining and suppressing and picking at memories. Daddy told me I was strong, didn't he? He did, I remembered he did. I was in the car with him when he told me how strong I was for surviving the transitions - no, no, I was in our old living room. No, wait, I was in the Southern Comfort, across from him in a booth . . . Did he ever tell me I was strong? Or did he tell me to _be_ strong? Was I forgetting something? Something _important_?

Maybe I was never strong enough to survive. Maybe I had . . . _help_.

"Then how am I alive?" I croaked, even as my mind - without my permission - began to stitch together an answer as it searched through my most-buried memories.

Klaus circled his fingers around my denim-clothed knees, which I recognized as a nervous tic. He was anxious. "We don't quite know, sweetheart. But we haven't quite wanted to look the gift horse in the mouth. The bliss of ignorance, if you will. That's not to say I haven't researched it, because I have - but I haven't found suitable answers, and you're alive and well, so . . ."

So he dropped it. He didn't want to unearth any information that could unsettle his perception of me. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. It meant that he loved me, and he would rather dwell in denial than find a good explanation for why I was different.

But he lied to me the entire time he knew me. He promised not to lie to me anymore, but he had been the whole damn time.

"I started looking it into it after you bit Kol and me," Elijah spoke up, startling me - I almost forgot he was there. "You are something of a miracle, Grace. Not only do child werewolves die somewhere between the first and third transitions, but werewolves cannot bite vampires in their human forms."

My mind went blank again as his words echoed harshly in my ears. _Werewolves cannot bite vampires in their human forms_. _Werewolves cannot bite vampires in their human forms. Werewolves cannot bite vampires in their human forms._ "Yeah, they can," I protested, but my voice was meek and shaky. "Daddy bit Stefan!" I looked to Klaus for desperate confirmation.

His confirmation wasn't what I wanted. "After he turned into a hybrid."

No, no, but - "Paige and her pack told me werewolves could do that. Even in human form, they _told_ me."

Kol piped up from his place still leaning against the doorway, "And have you ever seen them do so in person?"

No . . . No, I hadn't. But why would they lie to me? Another horrible, twisted thought scraped at the edges of my skull. Because Daddy told them to.

No, no, _no_! I began to frantically grasp at straws, and turned back to Klaus. "Daddy told me that werewolves could bite vampires at any time. He said it was our way of balancing nature. He told me that, he _told_ me!"

Klaus's face slackened with pity. "Your father lied to you."

 _Your father lied to you. Your father lied to you. Your father lied to you. Your father lied to you. Your father lied to you._

Daddy lied. No, _everybody_ lied to me. Everyone I ever trusted or loved lied to me about who - or _what_ \- I was. Ice swirled inside of my chest, and my heart froze over. I couldn't trust anybody. There was something _wrong_ with me, and nobody told me.

Mama was right all along. I _was_ a freak.

"You're a liar," I whispered, pulling my knees into my chest, out of Klaus's hold, and ripping my hand from Rebekah's clutches. "You _all_ are."

There was a long, charged beat of silence that followed, until Klaus pierced it. "Gracie, sweetheart -" His eyes were soft and pleading and loving, but it meant nothing to me anymore. Nothing meant anything anymore. Everything was a lie. Nothing was real.

As my heart slowly wrenched itself into two, I gave myself up to the fury that had been brewing underneath my skin for so long. "You're a _liar_!" Klaus rolled back onto his haunches, lips parting, but I didn't give him a chance to speak. "You're nothing but a _liar_! All you do is lie, lie, LIE!"

"Gracie -" Rebekah reached for me, but I jerked away, and her hand lowered limply to her side. "Little love, he hasn't lied to you before this. Surely you can forgive him for this."

The same thought occurred to Klaus and me at the exact same time. Everything about him begged me to stay quiet, to keep the peace. But I was too far gone, too lost in my rage to even consider the consequences of outing him to his siblings.

And so I said it, and at first, I didn't regret it. "He's lied to me before," I said softly, reveling in the dismay that overtook Klaus as he realized where I was headed with this. "He lied to me when he said he wouldn't hit me again, but he did. The first time when we left Mystic Falls, and the second time only a couple days before you all woke up." I turned to Bekah, whose wide eyes were shining with horror and despair. "You were wondering why there was blood on my pillow. It was because of _Klaus_."

The silence that trailed my accusation made the earlier one pale pathetically in comparison. Klaus's head lowered in defeat as his siblings absorbed what I announced, each one of them taking on an expression of anger or disgust or anything in between.

And then, unable to help myself, I drove the final nail into the coffin. "You might've chosen me, Klaus, but that doesn't mean I chose you."

He bowed forward slightly, almost winded; he looked as if I stabbed him in the heart, and that was when I felt the first twinge of regret. Entirely overwhelmed, I jumped from the couch and used every bit of my werewolf speed to blur from the room.

My heart sank into my stomach as the inferno of an argument sparked in the study once again. "How dare you?" Bekah shrieked, and a slapping sound echoed into the hallway - she must've smacked him across the face. Hard. An onslaught of tears swirled in my eyes, and my hand flew to my mouth. "She's a little girl - your little girl - and you dare lay a hand on her?"

"You don't know the circumstances," he snarled back as I leaned against the wall, squeezing my eyes shut and pressing my palms against my ears, but to no avail.

"You're irredeemable, Niklaus," Finn told him viciously. Quiet sobs racked my body as I slid down the wall, burying my face into my folded arms. This was all my fault. Why did I say that? Why did I ruin everything? My fault, my fault, _my fault_.

"This is solving nothing, Grace is listening -" Elijah tried, but he was cut off.

Kol, once again, stepped over the line. No, he drove about a goddamn mile past it, and then flipped it the bird in his rearview mirror. "Mikael would be proud, brother. Daddy's little bastard living up to his fake father's memory." My heart shattered into pieces. No, Klaus wasn't Mikael. He _wasn't_. That was the worse thing Kol could've said to him.

I never should've said anything.

There was a _cracking_ noise, where it sounded like Klaus struck Kol in the nose. Kol punched back, and a brawl ensued. All the blood drained from my face, and my legs carried me of my own accord down the hallway and into my bedroom. I sucked in bitter sobs through my clenched teeth as I threw myself onto my bed.

The bloodstain on my pillow was still there. It made me feel even worse, and furiously, I yanked the pillowcase from the pillow. The blood had soaked through to the pillow, though, and violently, I ripped into it. I tore through it like a dog digging for a bone, and feathers exploded from the wound, showering all around me in a haze of white fluff.

As the shouts and punches continued, a brisk knock rapped against my doorframe. Esther stood there, her lips flattened into a thin, stern line as she peered down her nose at me.

"You're tearing this family apart," was all she said, then stalked off in the direction of the fighting.

And that was the final straw. Her words might as well have been a bullet as they shredded through my flesh and bones and soul. It felt as though my insides were crumbling into dust, and all because of five simple words.

But she was right. I was ruining them. Destroying them from the inside out. They were a family, and I was the intruder. The invader. The _enemy_. I had to go. If I _really_ loved Klaus - and I did - then I had to let him go. I was making him unhappy. Miserable, even. He would be better off without me.

And I needed to find the truth. The truth of why I was the way I was. A living child werewolf who could bite vampires "willy nilly." They lied to me. All of them. The Mikaelsons, Paige's pack, Daddy. I needed to find the truth for myself somehow.

But how?

My hands moving automatically, I began to stuff my possessions into the pillowcase, then hesitated. Klaus got me everything I owned. It would be like stealing from him. Still, in the end, I grabbed my Wolverine figurine and Bekah the bear, hugging them as tightly as I could before packing them away. They were my very most favorite objects in the whole wide world, and I couldn't imagine leaving them behind.

It wasn't hard to slip down the staircase, and out the front door. They didn't even notice, especially now that Esther had entered the fray. And they wouldn't notice I was gone for hours on end.

By then, it would be too late.

* * *

I ran as far and fast as my legs would take me through the woods. Silent, stinging tears gushed down my cheeks as my feet propelled me through dirt and over roots and around sludge, my pillowcase slung firmly over my left shoulder. My lungs screamed an exhausted, unheard cry, but I didn't once slow my pace.

I had no way to tell how far I'd traveled. Had it been minutes? Hours? Five miles? Ten? Twenty? Long and far enough for an unusual weary sensation to form deep inside my aching muscles.

I caught a glimpse of a road, and headed toward it determinedly. This was it. It was time to leave Mystic Falls once and for all.

Only, I never made it to the street. My shoe caught on a hidden tree root and I was flung forward into a particularly ill-placed puddle of mud while my pillowcase bounced forward to safety. Collapsing down into the thick, grimy liquid, it soaked into my clothes and stained the longer strands of my golden hair brown. Screwing up my face in disgust, I sputtered and spat it out, searching for a clean body of water anywhere - however small - that could help me out. There was none.

A low chuckle echoed from beyond the trees, and I shot upwards, on the alert. The lone figure stepped out behind a tree trunk with brows raised, green eyes twinkling with amusement.

A growl rumbled deep in my chest, and heat flared behind my eyes. "Stefan."

 **A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger, lol. Also, if there's any confusion, the beginning of the chapter is Grace and Stefan. Everything then leads up to that point and will continue to lead up to that point in the next chapter, where the storyline will then continue in present time.**

 **So, Grace is not a normal werewolf, and that reason will be made clear in the upcoming chapter (s?). Anyway, what'd you guys think about this one? Like it? Love it? Hate it? Let me know in the reviews!**


	12. Runaway

**A/N: Hi, everybody! *Hi, Doctor Nick*! Hahaha, I hate myself. Gah, it's been a month since I'm last updated. I'm sorry! School sucks a whole lot. Junior year, man. Ugh. To those who have read, favorited, followed, and reviewed this story, thank you so, so, so much. Seriously, it means a crap ton to me, and I've never had a story get this popular before. I absolutely love you guys. Thank you again.**

 **Okay, so this is randomly the longest chapter I've ever written for this story. It's kind of a hodgepodge of different stuff. It's set-up for next chapter, which will be intense, but it also has a lot of its own interesting (I hope!) elements in there. There's some Stefan and Grace interactions that I had a lot of fun writing which might offer some comic relief, and then Katherine gets thrown into the mix. Katherine, you say?! She's always there when the characters don't want her to be!**

 **Ooh ooh ooh, and I have my first ever Klaus perspective! It definitely won't be the last. Family draaaammaa - and he certainly won't be happy when he finds Grace gone... Please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks so much! :D**

 **P.S. Also, I don't know if Stefan had his motorcycle at this point? If he didn't, um, oops.**

 **Chapter 12: Runaway**

"Had an accident?" Smirking, Stefan leaned against the nearest tree trunk, arms crossed. He was muscular, I realized, easy to see through his thin black T-shirt. But that didn't mean he wasn't annoying as hell. "What're you doing out here?"

He obviously didn't have his humanity back. From what I'd heard, especially from Caroline, who mentioned him the night before, Stefan was naturally kind and compassionate. Even when I first met him, before Klaus officially compelled his humanity away, he was nice to me. He murdered my daddy, but he was nice to me. It didn't make much sense.

Now, not so much. "Leave me alone," I grouched, scrambling up from the mud, the brown goo dripping down my front in dribbles and chunks. My shoes squished as I stepped out of the puddle, dirt and moss sticking itself against my socks.

Stefan's brow creased. "Are you crying?"

There was something in his gaze then, something . . . sad. And then I realized the truth. His humanity was trickling back in. It wasn't all there, but it wasn't all gone, either. Grunting, he picked his way forward through the messy forest floor, hauled me up by the armpits, and carried me to a dryer surface.

Once my feet met ground again, I shook Stefan off, glaring. He flicked his eyes upward to the sky. "What're you doing here, kid?" He appraised me more closely. "Does Klaus know you're here?"

Ignoring his question, I stomped through the mud for my pillowcase, slinging it back over my shoulder. "Hey!" I attempted to march away, already bored with our conversation, but he blurred in front of me, halting me in my tracks. "Are you running away or something?"

I jutted out my chin defiantly. "What's it to you?"

Stefan arched a brow, crossing his arms. "Well, I don't think this is news to you, but let's say you run off somewhere and get hurt. Klaus will go on a warpath. If he finds out I let you go, guess who's dying first?"

I was too tired and sad and angry to feel very sympathetic towards him. "Tough luck, Stef." Damon had called him that before, and it seemed to irritate him enough to make it a fun nickname. "I need to find the truth about myself."

He blinked, and the faintest of smirks touched his lips. "Um, okay. About what? I think you're a little too young to be questioning your sexuality."

My _what_? Ugh, whatever, Stefan was dumb. Everything he said was useless and stupid. "There's something wrong with me." An irksome thought occurred to me. "Did _you_ know that werewolves can't bite vampires in their human forms and that werewolf kids don't exist?"

He opened his mouth to answer right away, then seemed to think against it, tilting his head back in genuine thought. "Huh. I guess I never really thought about it. I only learned that werewolves even existed less than a year ago. I still don't know a lot about them. I didn't know you were any different."

So that made Stefan Salvatore the only damn person who _didn't_ lie to me. What a bizarre turn of events. "Right, so everyone else knew and lied about me, and now I need to find out why I'm not dead and why I can bite vampires, so it was nice seeing you and all, but bye."

Tapping into my werewolf speed, I attempted to blur past him, but once again, he was faster and caught me by the elbow. "Not so fast, little wolf cub." I frowned at the nickname, but I supposed it was revenge for calling him "Stef." I suppressed a vicious growl for holding me back. "What are you planning on? Jumping on a bus, looking like that?" He brandished a hand up and down my muddy clothes. "Where are you even _going_?"

I . . . well, shit. Where _was_ I going? I was so determined to leave Mystic Falls and find the truth that I didn't consider where I was going to find the truth _from_. Where would be a good place to start? Daddy was dead, so it wasn't like I could ask him. Paige's pack was dead too.

Then it struck me. Of course. _Home._ It wasn't a home, not really, because we didn't live there much, but over the past year, it'd been the only home I had. With Daddy, Samara, and Keisha - and Rudy the dog. I wondered where Rudy was. I hoped he was alive, and had somebody taking care of him. He was a good dog. It was the only place I could think of finding any clues at. "Memphis."

Stefan's eyebrows crinkled together. " _Remember_?" I prompted a little more harshly than I originally intended. "Remember those girls? You murdered them."

Something akin to shame flickered across his face. "Yeah, I remember them." He rubbed the back of his neck. "If you're planning on leaving the state, don't you think you should get washed off first?"

I perked up. "So you're going to let me go?"

He raised up his hands in a placating gesture. "I didn't say that."

That's it - this smug, stupid, infuriating vampire was trying the limits of my patience. "How about this, Stef?" His lips curved down into a frown. "I bite you right here, right now, if you don't let me go. And when you run to Klaus to get that fixed, he won't be too generous, now will he? You did steal his family after all. I think he'll just let you die."

He scoffed at me, and I was millimeters away from springing into the air and sinking my teeth into his throat. "I'm faster than you, wolf cub. What's to stop me from bringing you back to Klaus right now, get back into his good graces?"

Aha. There was the fatal flaw in his plan. I smirked up at him. "You don't want to get back into his good graces. You want revenge. Your last plan failed, and then he shoved you into a fire pit for good measure. Do you _really_ want to go and kiss Klaus's ass?"

He stared down at me for a long moment with those deep, conflicted green eyes. "You're smart," he eventually decided to say. "Smarter than I give you credit for."

"Does that mean I'm right?" I asked smugly, tossing my mud-stained hair over my shoulders for effect. "You wanna screw Klaus over. Let me go, and you'll do _just that_."

"As appealing as that sounds -" hah, nailed it - "I can't do that." Wait, _what_? The metaphorical tires of my devious plan came screeching to a stop. As I scrunched up my nose in disbelief, he continued, "I can't in good conscience let an eight-year-old girl - don't look at me like that, you're still eight, no matter your werewolf powers - wander off two states over on her own."

I chose to hit him where it hurt. "Klaus took your humanity. You don't have a conscience."

Any residual trace of fondness disappeared in an instant. "Yeah, don't be so sure. You don't know me. You don't know how hard I've struggled."

I exhaled a bitter, breathy laugh. "Before or after you rip your victims apart?" Klaus ended up telling me what a ripper was. And Stefan Salvatore was a _famous_ one - the Ripper of Monterey. Noticing how rigid his posture became, I added, "Or maybe during?"

"All of the above," he muttered.

"Poor Stefan feels bad after he murders people," I mocked. "You're not the victim here."

"I know that!" he said loudly, his voice raised almost to a shout. He visibly calmed himself, then, drawing in deep and measured breaths. ". . . I know that." His brief stint of sorrow turned accusatory. "You worship the ground Klaus walks on, and he's killed thousands - probably more - of people. That doesn't bother you?"

"He owns up to it. He doesn't _black out_ and forget about it all." When Klaus told me that little piece of information, I was mildly repulsed. Rippers were cowards. Pure and simple. "He doesn't lose control like you do. You're pathetic."

Unfortunately for me, Stefan was sharper than I played him for. He cut straight through my bullshit in a second. "You're trying to make me mad so I'll let you go," he said knowingly, and my mouth dropped open. Dark amusement wove itself into his tone. "My brother does that all the time, and he does it better than you. I know that game. I'm not letting you go off alone."

A light bulb glimmered bright above my head as a wonderful idea burned into my mind. "So come with me."

Stefan immediately backpedaled. "Grace -"

"No!" I interrupted him, and a muscle in his jaw tightened. "You killed my daddy. You owe me one."

"I didn't have a choice," he replied almost instantly, as if it had become his default answer.

I responded the same way I did then. "There's _always_ a choice. You chose wrong."

Clearly, he was becoming more and more frustrated as the conversation continued on. "They were dying. All of them. They were bleeding from their eyes, remember? They wouldn't have survived anyway."

I remembered. In all actuality, he was probably right. Daddy might've died anyway. But there was no way in hell I was going to let him win that point. "And you know that _how_? You and Klaus killed them all before you could figure out if they would live or not." That wasn't completely true. Some of them died on their own. But Stefan wasn't around for that, and didn't need to know that. "And even before that, you tortured my daddy with wolfsbane darts." He winced at the memory, and I gained traction and passion. "You treated him like an animal on the last day of his life."

He signed, shifting his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot, but didn't argue. I won. Somehow, it didn't feel much like winning, though. It only made me sad to talk about. "I saved your life, remember?" he tried. "I repaid that debt."

That was true. He _did_ save me after Mikael stabbed me in the back. His green eyes had been soft as he dribbled blood into my mouth. He was kind to me, then, even when his humanity was supposedly all the way gone. Maybe it was never completely gone, though. Even when he was in his darkest place, I never thought he would hurt me.

I couldn't really say the same about Klaus, could I?

Still, even though Stefan saved me, that wasn't exactly _foolproof_. "Yeah?" I challenged. "And the same night you took Klaus's family, and ruined everything again. So, yeah, you owe me one."

"Rebekah's back," he retorted after a brief moment of hesitation. "No blood, no foul."

"Elena gave her back, not you, and Damon undaggered Elijah, who undaggered everyone else. If it was up to you, they'd all be at the bottom of an ocean somewhere." He glanced away, unable to meet my piercing, unimpressed gaze, and ultimately proved my point. While it was fun to rag on him, though, I had better things to do with my time. "Look, I'm going to Tennessee with or without you," I informed him matter-of-factly. "I don't really care, but you do. Do you have a conscience or not, _rippah_?" Klaus always said it like that with his weird accent, and it sounded funny. Stupid, but funny.

I could hear the sound of his molars grinding together as he either mulled over my words or tried to restrain his temper. Probably both. For one final power ploy, I appealed to his desire for revenge. "You basically said it yourself. You're still mad at Klaus. He's arguing with his family right now, and it's bad. They'll be at it for _hours_. What's a better way to get back at him then to go behind his back and take his _wolf cub_ to another state, make him look like an idiot?"

He stood there for a long time, obviously warring over his options. But, soon enough: "Fine."

* * *

 **Ten Minutes Later**

And that's why, not long after, I was on the Salvatore front lawn getting hosed down, because Stefan insisted he wouldn't go anywhere with me "looking like I wrestled with a swamp creature and lost." I didn't complain, though, since he agreed to take me. "Stefan!" I squeaked as the icy water blasted me at full-force, soaking through my clothes in an instant. "Turn it down!"

A dry smile lifted the corners of his mouth. "Sorry, can't hear you. Did you say turn it up?" He cranked the spigot sideways, and even though I didn't think it was possible, the water shot out even stronger, damn near knocking me off my feet. He chuckled as I screamed at the intense cold.

Stefan had one ugly house, that was for sure. It was enormous and hideous and generally a stain on all architecture everywhere. But the person that came out of Stefan's ugly-ass house was quite handsome. Damon Salvatore. "The hell are you doing?" he demanded as he leaned out of the front doorway, bewildered.

Stefan turned off the hose as I shivered, positively drenched and dripping buckets. "I found a stray."

Damon glanced at me once, then rolled his glacier-colored eyes. "Uh, no, you found _Klaus's_ stray. Return her before we get shish-kebabbed by an Original Hybrid with anger management issues."

"No can do, brother." Wiping his hands off on his jeans, he headed in the direction of the garage only for Damon to cut him off with vampire speed and for Elena Gilbert to appear on the front porch. _What is she doing inside there?_ I wondered. Caroline's dad only just died. Why wasn't Elena with her? "Get out of my way."

"Stefan, what's going on?" Hugging her sides, Elena stepped outside further, her brown doe-eyes widening at the sight of me. "What are you doing with Klaus's . . . friend?" she finished lamely.

"What're you doing with Stefan's brother?" I sneered, earning myself a glare from Damon and a surprised look from Elena. "Caroline's dad just died. Why aren't you with _her_?"

Elena's soft, glistening lips fell open. "How . . ." She cleared her throat, uncomfortable. "How do you know about that?"

Unmoved and steely, I replied, "She's my friend. When friends' dads die, you be there for them." Elena lowered her gaze.

"Oh, Blondie's made a new friend!" Damon crowed from where he gripped Stefan by the bicep to keep him from budging. "How cute." His smirk transformed into a grimace as he faced me completely. "Now, what the hell are you doing here?"

"This has nothing to do with you," Stefan answered for me. "So, Damon." He roughly shrugged him off. "You can go back to -" A shadow crossed his face. "- spending time with Elena." He gave him a tight, angry little smile. "Don't worry. I won't be here to ruin your fun."

"Stefan -" Elena protested, but he stalked past her. Smirking up at her, I followed him as he led the way to the garage. "What are you doing?" she called after us, she and Damon tagging close behind. "I don't understand." When he didn't slow his pace, she said more sharply, "Stefan, _please_!"

Stefan spun around on his heels. "What do you _want_ from me, Elena?" She faltered with obvious hurt. "Look," he lowered his voice, "you've said you still see the good in me. That I'm a good person, deep down. This is me trying to be a good person. I'm taking her back to Memphis. I owe the kid." Both Elena and Damon looked over at me, and I wiggled my fingers to be obnoxious. "I killed her dad." He looked distantly apologetic. "I ruined her life."

Damon pulled a pensive expression for a second, then scoffed. "This has nothing to do with you wanting to pull the rug out from under Klaus?"

Stefan remained unruffled. "It helps."

Elena clenched her fists in frustration. "Stefan, it's over! The Originals are all back together now. You don't have leverage over them. We don't have _anything_ over them. Let it go."

Huh, she actually sounded kind of smart there. Maybe she wasn't as annoying and ridiculous as I originally pegged her for. Stefan, meanwhile, was busy looking all taken aback. "Klaus killed your aunt, and you're just ready to _forgive_ him?"

Elena threw her hands up in the air, and I caught a tang of unshed tears. Klaus killed her aunt? Of course he did. Wait, was that Alaric's girlfriend? Ha, connections! "Of course not. But if you keep at this then you're going to end up dead, and you know it." A single tear rolled down her tanned cheek. "God, Stefan! I know you care. I know that somewhere, deep down, you still care. I need you! Don't do this. You're better than this."

She did have a point. Really, there was only so much Klaus would take before he decided to smack Stefan's head right off his shoulders. However right she was, though, I still needed to go to Memphis. "I'll put in a good word for him," I said helpfully, and Elena tore her teary gaze away from Stefan and toward me. "Klaus listens to me." Not really. "If I tell him to keep Stefan alive, then he will." Debatable. And anyway, I wasn't planning on seeing Klaus again, so it was a moot point.

But they didn't have to know that.

Damon turned to Elena with defeat etched into his stance. "He's going to do what he wants, Elena, no matter how _idiotic_ ," he flashed his brother a derisive glare, "it is. There's nothing you can to do stop it. Trust me, Ripper Stefan isn't exactly a picnic to deal with. Once he gets back to Broody and Vomiting Feelings Stefan then we'll make some progress."

Elena tried one last time. "You're really doing this? You're really going to help Klaus's," yet again, she struggled for a word to call me, " _whatever_ run away?"

Stefan didn't even blink. "Yes."

Elena crossed her arms and then furiously wiped away her wet eyes with one hand. "Then it's your funeral." With that, she turned around sharply and stomped back into the Salvatore abode. Damon, shaking his head at Stefan like he was a misbehaving child, followed her, slamming the door behind him.

Stefan could pretend all he wanted that he wasn't affected, but I could tell he was, from the way he leaned forward slightly, as if someone punched him in the gut, and from the way his left eyelid twitched. I even felt a little sympathy for the vampire. But it was his fault. He didn't very well have to take me to Memphis. I could get there myself.

Sparing one last longing glance toward the front door, Stefan beckoned me over. "Come on, kid. We've got to hit the road."

I followed Stefan as he entered his garage, and revealed a gleaming black motorcycle that he looked faintly proud of. Rummaging through a bin, he strapped on a helmet, and then tossed one over to me. It was a little big, I observed as I turned it over in my hands, but it would do. I yanked it over my head and buckled it, ignoring the fact that it rolled to the side almost immediately. "Hop on."

I grinned wickedly. "Oh, hell yeah!"

* * *

 **A Few Hours Later**

I scrunched up my nose in confusion as Stefan pulled into a diner parking lot, shutting the motorcycle off. I was even more confused as he pulled his helmet off, then reached for mine, leaving them dangling on the handlebars. Seeing my quizzical gaze, he grumbled, "I've been listening to your stomach growl for over an hour now. I'm pretty sure not feeding you counts as child abuse. Come on." I looked at him like he was insane. Seriously? That's what he cared about right now? What a noob. "Yeah, I know Klaus is bound to figure out sooner or later that you're with me, even if he's fighting with the rest of them, but I'm pretty sure he'll be even more angry if you're starving, so . . ."

I huffed. "Fine." Rolling his eyes, Stefan shouldered his way into the diner, rudely brushing past a waitress and finding the nearest booth. I settled in and tucked in my pillowcase beside me for safe keeping. The same waitress he bumped into found us not a minute later, and plastered on a wide, fake smile, even as she performed a quick but bothered look-over of my still filthy clothes.

"Welcome to Freddy's Diner." She handed us both menus, and Stefan didn't waste a second before tossing it to the side, disinterested. The waitress's smile faltered. "Can I get anything for you to drink?"

"I'm good, thanks," Stefan said tightly.

"What about your little sister?" the waitress asked, and both Stefan and I recoiled. Little sister? Where the hell did she get that from? It sort of made sense, I guess. What else would he be? He looked seventeen, so he couldn't very well be my father.

"I'll have a chocolate milkshake, please," I chirped, and smiling, she nodded.

"Coming right up." She waltzed off.

Stefan appraised me with even, bored green eyes. "I always wanted a sister. You're not it."

I glared, deciding to be offended by his comment. "It's not like you're anywhere close to being my brother, either. I couldn't very well say you're a vampire who's over a hundred years old who killed my daddy and is helping me find out why I'm a freak werewolf kid, right?"

". . . Fair enough."

The two of us sat in tense, uncomfortable silence until the waitress brought my milkshake back, and I accepted it happily, immediately sucking on the straw loudly enough to make Stefan flinch. "Have you two decided what you wanted to order?" the perky waitress asked.

"I'm good, thanks," Stefan repeated from before.

The waitress harped in on him. "Are you sure you don't want anything? Our special today is a double deluxe bacon cheeseburger with our famous onion rings -"

"As appetizing as a heart attack sounds right about now," he said dryly, and I giggled into my whipped cream, "I'm set. My _little sister_ is hungry, though." He fixed me with a pointed glance.

"I'll have your special, please," I said, handing her back the menu. She looked faintly surprised.

"That's quite a lot for such a little girl. Are you sure you don't want to look at our kids' meals -"

"I can handle it," I interrupted her, a little less pleasant than before. "I have a fast meteb - matb - metab -"

"Metabolism," Stefan finished with a small smile. Still looking doubtful, the waitress clutched the menus to her chest and hurried off. "Clearly you don't mind having a heart attack. Do you really hate my company that much?"

I narrowed my eyes. "I can eat a lot."

"Obviously." What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was he calling me fat? I was skinny as a rail and short as a tack. "I still remember when Klaus bought you McDonald's and you ate it with the speed of a vacuum cleaner."

I regarded him coolly, not sure whether he was trying to tease me or rehash supposedly "fond" memories. "Yeah, 'cause both you and Klaus forgot that I needed to eat for like three days." I remembered that time. After my daddy's death, I was as quiet as a mouse, and they didn't really notice me at all on the way to Chicago. Fond memories indeed.

"Cut us a break." He smiled again, and it seemed he was exercising his limited abilities of humor. "Neither of us had willingly spent time with a child for centuries. It was a little new for us."

I raised a single eyebrow as I inhaled my chocolate shake. "Are you defending Klaus right now?"

His face smoothed out and lost any trace of mirth. "No, I'm defending myself. He somehow got lumped in there. My mistake." His eyes widened then, and flicked past me, over my shoulder. I was about to ask what the hell his problem was now when, of all people, Katherine Pierce slid in the booth beside me. I stared at the pretty vampire like she sprouted an extra head. What the hell was _she_ doing here?

Stefan seemed to echo my thoughts. "What the hell are you doing here? What happened to you putting hundreds of miles between you and Klaus?"

"What, you aren't happy to see me?" she purred, barely sparing me a second glance. Why, I never! I wasn't chopped liver, I was actually a pretty damn interesting individual, if I said so myself. "And I did do that. Or, I was going to. I had a little fun on the way and it slowed me down. His name was Peter." She smirked as my face twisted in disgust. "Anyway, I was having a grand ol' time, but I had to track you down. Really, Stefan, I told you to get mad, not suicidal."

Stefan wasn't in the mood to put up with any bullshit. "You've been keeping tabs on me?"

Katherine reached for my chocolate shake and took a long gulp, and I swear to God my eyes flashed gold. It wasn't easy to get me mad, but - well, shit, yeah it was. It was really easy to get me mad, actually. All someone had to do was drink my shake or a snatch one too many fries off my plate and I was ready to tear throats out. I'd like to say I learned it all from Klaus, but Daddy said I had a hot temper from the womb and I would kick like a kangaroo if someone spoke too loudly.

Before I could attempt to kill Katherine, the waitress dropped off my meal, and a growl brewed in my chest as Katherine eyed my onion rings. The waitress did a double take, obviously wondering if she really heard me make that noise, and then disappeared without another word, shaking her head. "Touch my food, Katherine, and you lose the hand," I warned. Stefan snorted, and Katherine tweaked a brow.

I took an enormous bite of my double deluxe bacon cheeseburger, and sighed contentedly. Life was okay now. "To answer your question, Stefan," Katherine said, giving me a look of mild revulsion as I chewed loudly and unabashedly, "yes, I have. Does that honestly surprise you? And when I heard from a little birdie that you were taking Gracie here out of the state -"

Stefan obviously made a connection that I didn't in my haze of food euphoria. "Did that little birdie go by the name of Damon Salvatore?" Katherine's smirk was answer enough for the both of us.

What a little snitch. Didn't anyone ever tell him that snitches got stitches and ended up in ditches? "Elena was complaining up a storm in the background. That little girlfriend of yours doesn't know when to shut her mouth," Katherine remarked, much to Stefan's irritation.

"Elena's 'nnoying," I garbled out through a mouthful of meat.

That seemed to please her. "Really, you think so too?"

"Mmmhmm." I returned to my burger, and quite literally dug my face into it, giving into my wolf side and ignoring any wandering eyes. Katherine reached for one of my onion rings, but I sent her the death glare of a century and said, while chewing, "Wha' di' I say 'bou' touchin' m'food?"

"People are looking at you," Stefan scolded, throwing a napkin at me, but Katherine seemed more amused than anything, choosing wisely to keep all hands, feet, and objects to herself.

This cheeseburger was too good to care, and I only shrugged. Let them stare. I could snap their necks in a second if I wanted to. Humans were useless.

"So, imagine my surprise when I found out you had a death wish. What were you thinking?" she continued, an accusatory flare to her tone now. "Taking Klaus's pup out from under his nose? All I did was avoid my own death and he hunted me for five hundred years. She's practically his kid. What Klaus had planned for me is going to look like paradise for what he's got in store for you."

If that unsettled Stefan in any way, he certainly didn't show it. He was a stoic person in general, I noticed, and not too expressive, even with his humanity. "Grace said she would put in a good word for me. I'm doing this for her, anyhow. It was her idea. She planned to go to Tennessee with or without me, and I figured it would be safer with me. If anything, Klaus should be grateful."

Katherine remained unimpressed. "That's not the way he'll see it." Lighting quick, she plucked an onion ring off my plate and popped it in her mouth, licking her fingers afterward, one by one. "Mmm. Delicious."

Unable to help myself, heat traveled behind my eyes and a vicious growl tore its way from my throat. "Hey! _Hey!_ " Stefan snapped his fingers, and startled, I returned to normal. "What if someone saw you?"

Fantasizing about punching Katherine in the esophagus, I returned to my food. "We're going to Tennessee because Grace found out earlier today that werewolves can't bite vampires in their human forms, and that child werewolves don't survive," Stefan explained before the brunette vampire could even ask.

Katherine didn't even have the decency to look surprised. "Oh, I knew that. Everyone knows that." She turned to me, all catty. "You didn't?"

My appetite abruptly disappeared and I dropped my cheeseburger back on the tray, shoving it away from me. Stefan had to catch it before it flew off the table, firing me a reproachful look. Swallowing my mouthful, I grumbled, "No, 'cause everyone lied to me." Something occurred to me then, and I got a little angry. "Hey, I threatened to bite you at the Homecoming party and you didn't say anything!"

"I thought you were trying your little eight-year-old hand at bluffing, and thought it was kind of cute." My face fell. Seriously? She was just _humoring_ me? God, I wanted to break something. Preferably her. She shrugged gracefully. "I didn't know you _actually_ could bite me."

"She can," Stefan deadpanned. "She bit me the first day I met her. She's not a hybrid, either. Something else entirely. She got bent out of shape when she found out Klaus knew the entire time and lied to her. She's decided to run away. She claims that he's fighting with his family and probably hasn't noticed that she's gone and won't for a while."

Since I was obviously done with my food, she reached over and began to nibble at another onion ring, musing, "Hmm. Well, kid, if anyone's an expert in running away from Klaus, it's me. It's hard work. Damn near impossible. And I have a feeling he'll try even harder to look for you than he did for me." My heart sank. She was probably right. Her sharp, knowing gaze softened. "He wanted to find me for revenge. He'll want to find you because, somewhere in his chest cavity where his heart should be, he cares about you."

I stared down hard at the table top. Klaus did care about me. He loved me, and I loved him. But was it enough? All he did was shout or hit me or lie and lie and lie. How was I supposed to go back to that?

Well, maybe that wasn't completely fair. That wasn't _all_ he did. He didn't shout as much as he used to, and he only hit me twice. The first time he only spanked me, which was something I was used to anyway. The second time he hit me across the face and made me bleed, but it didn't come out of _nowhere_. I had said something pretty awful to him, even if it wasn't an excuse for him hurting me.

But he did lie. He lied about not hitting me again, and he did that. But even worse than that, he lied about my entire identity. How was I meant to trust him? How was I meant to trust any of them?

But I missed him. I missed him a whole lot. Klaus wasn't all bad, not like most people thought, anyhow. He let me tag along with him everywhere and gave me a piggyback ride that one time and offered me drawing advice sometimes. He gave me a new room and a new house and a new life, and there were no strings attached but to love him back. All I wanted was for him to chase me around and pretend to threaten me and call me "sweetheart."

I missed all of them. Bekah, my first friend in this huge mess. She listened to me and brushed my hair and showed me kindness from the beginning. Most people thought she was mean and cold and cruel, but she wasn't. Not really. She was sort of sweet, and warm, and gentle with me. I wanted to draw more pictures for her and have her hit Klaus when he insulted me and for her to call me "little love" again.

Even Elijah. I didn't know him very long, but I was already bonded to him. He didn't show a lot of emotion, but he was kind too, like his sister - probably even kinder. He was stern sometimes, but I knew it was because he only wanted to protect me and because he cared about manners and all that dumb stuff. Even though I had complained about it, I kind of liked that he went out of his way to make me read _The Scarlet Letter_ , because he wanted me to be smart. It wasn't a terrible book, I supposed. Maybe, if I saw him again, I'd read it with him again. And I wanted him to call me "little one" again.

God, they all had such stupid nicknames for me, but I loved them more than I cared to admit.

And then, there was even Kol and Finn. Kol was sort of obnoxious and I sometimes felt running him over with a pickup truck, but he wasn't all that bad. He was funny and cooked me pancakes yesterday morning. Finn was sweet. He was clueless, but well-meaning. He cared about me too. They all did. Except Esther. But she could launch herself off a bridge for all _I_ cared.

I changed the subject before it became too painful to think about. "I told Elijah," I said conversationally, pretending that I wasn't hurting. Pretending that I didn't want to drop everything and go home and run into Klaus's arms and never let go. It was too late for that. I couldn't back out now. "Told him what you wanted me to tell him."

Katherine's eyes widened slightly, while Stefan's narrowed. "Wait, what?"

We both ignored him. "You did?" Katherine asked, her voice noticeably strained. "First off, I didn't want you to tell him anything." I repressed a smile. _Sure, okay_ , I thought. "But . . ." She pretended to act all nonchalant, but I could see right through her. "Since you already did . . . What did he say?"

 _Elijah and Katherine, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!_ I sang in my head. "He didn't say anything." Her expression tightened. Was that . . . disappointment I saw in her features? "He looked at me for a really long time, though. He had a lot of feelings on his face and all that." That much was true. I wasn't sure what his feelings _were_ , but he sure as hell had them.

Katherine stiffly tossed her hair over her shoulders. Oh, she was interested. I had no doubt in my mind. "Hmm." Evidently not in the mood to talk about it any longer, she slid out from the booth. "So, are we going to Tennessee, or what?"

Stefan and I exchanged a dubious glance. "Um, you're not going," he informed her.

Her lips curled back into a predatory smile. "Yes, I am. You see, I have myself to think of."

Stefan matched her smile, although it was much colder. "When _don't_ you think of yourself?"

Katherine took his little snub in stride. "Your plan is bound to fail. If you're suicidal, then, well, there's not much I can do about it." Stefan scoffed in disbelief. "But if I bring the little rugrat back to her owner, then he owes me. If I play my cards right, I don't have to run anymore. Grace puts in a good word for you, then maybe, just maybe, you don't die either." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm, and yet, she seemed fairly attached to her plan. "If you spin it well enough, then you were only protecting her. The only one who's _really_ in trouble is her."

My mouth dropped open in outrage. "You're throwing me under the bus? Hell no. I'm not going back anyway, so there."

Stefan dropped his head for a moment, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Grace, your father is dead." Gee, who knew? It's not like he killed him or anything - oh, wait . . . "Your mother is missing in action." That was one way to put it. "You killed your uncle." Ugh, why did I ever tell him that? "You don't have any other family members." What was this, a shit on my life session? "Where will you go?"

If he was trying to make me feel insecure about my whole existence, then it was damn well working. "I'll find a wolf pack," I said with wavering confidence. Werewolves stuck together, didn't they? Surely they'd allow me into their ranks.

"They're hard to find these days," Stefan pointed out. "And anyway, you're an anomaly, remember? They probably wouldn't accept you. Face it, kid. You've got nowhere to go and nobody to go to. You're completely alone in this."

I grasped my milkshake glass so hard that it shattered beneath my fingertips, chocolate goo dribbling down my palm and wrist. Both vampires appraised me in faint surprise. Furiously, I flicked all the glass shards off my fingers, reached for my pillowcase, and scooted out from the booth, wiping my hand off on Stefan's T-shirt once I was out for good measure. "Screw you, asshole."

I dodged an incoming waitress and twirled around a mop, making my way to the doorway. I must've pushed a little too hard on the glass, because a spider web of cracks formed beneath my fingers until the whole thing crumbled into a waterfall of glimmering diamond-like pieces. "Aw, shit."

Grumbling under my breath, I ignored the hoopla that stirred behind me, reveling in the _crunch_ of the glass beneath the soles of my shoes as I stomped out. A white bread family of four hesitated in front of their minivan at the sight of me and I stopped in my tracks.

There was a father, with a balding head and a protruding beer gut, but a friendly aura. A mother with a housewife haircut and a horrific amount of pink in her outfit. A boy around five or six with unruly brown hair, wearing a dirt-stained soccer uniform. And then a bouncing baby girl, tucked safely away in her mother's arms, her fingers shoved halfway into her mouth and covered in spit.

They were perfect.

Unwanted tears pricked at the back of my eyes and clenching my fists, I averted my gaze and continued on. That used to be me. Used to be my family. Before I killed my uncle, and in the midst of all their marital problems, we were the perfect suburban family. A daddy who worked in construction and was content to sit back and crack open a beer at the end of the day. A mama who worked part-time at the grocery store two blocks down and who hosted all the neighborhood barbecues with a tired smile. A daughter with blonde pigtails and huge eyes and cute dresses.

We were picture perfect. And then my uncle tried to touch me, I killed him, my own mama tried to murder me, she left, my daddy was killed not a year later, and I was a freak of nature who really should've been dead, who as an orphan, lived with a family of a thousand-year-old vampires and was practically adopted by the most dangerous creature of all of time.

I reached Stefan's motorcycle and made moves to swing my legs over onto the seat, but two hands reached under my arms and hoisted me off. Male hands. Stefan. "I don't think so."

"Get off me!" I shouted, flailing around in midair like a goddamn maniac, dropping the pillowcase. "If you won't help me, then I'll go myself! I'm not going back!"

But I did want to go back. What kind of person did that make me? Not a brave one. Just some stupid little girl who got scared only three hours after she ran away and needed to go home to her . . . her . . . whatever the hell Klaus was. There was nothing I wanted more than to hide from the world in his arms, letting him comfort me and shelter me and protect me.

I wanted to go home.

"We never said we wouldn't take you there," Katherine said from beside me, annoyingly unbothered by my tantrum, even as one of my feet almost clipped her in the side. "But I'm getting a hold of Klaus as soon as we get there. He'll need the phone call, because any location spell he does on you will be faulty, considering you'll be on the move. It's perfect, kid. I look good. Stefan gets petty revenge by making Klaus look like an idiot, but doesn't screw up badly enough to make Klaus want to disembowel him, because you weren't gone for more than a few hours with the bonus that he tried to _protect_ you. You get enough time to learn about your," she brandished a hand over my struggling, writhing form, "wolfie thing, and then you're returned to your owner like a good little doggie."

Those _fuckers_ flipped on me. What, so they went with the plan that screwed _me_ over? Um, no thank you. None of this would have happened if I hadn't bumped into Stefan goddamn Salvatore in the first place. "No way!" I bellowed, swinging my legs backward to slam my heels into Stefan's shins. He groaned, but his grip didn't loosen. "No, no, no!"

A couple strolling by on the sidewalk paused at the sight of me, and shared a worried look, as if they were attempting to deduce whether or not I was being kidnapped. "My boyfriend's little sister doesn't want to get her flu shot," Katherine gushed to the two of them, taking on an entirely different persona in an instant. "What a time for the future in-laws to take their Europe vacation, am I right?"

The couple laughed nervously, but moved on as quickly as possible, obviously accepting her excuse without minimal protest. "Calm down," Stefan hissed in my ear. "You've already made enough of a scene."

A devious plan formulated in my head, then, and my erratic movements calmed enough for Stefan to place me back on my feet. "Fine," I snapped. They wanted that stupid plan to work? I'd make it work. At least, I'd make them _think_ it would work. Because, as much as I wanted to, I couldn't go back to Mystic Falls. Not now. Not when all the Mikaelsons did was lie to me. I couldn't trust them, and I _wasn't_ going back.

All I had to do was eliminate both Stefan and Katherine, and then hightail it to the nearest bus, and disappear. Right, sure. They could have their plan. I would have my own. I had to temporarily kill or stall two vampires, one who was over a hundred years old, and the other who was around five hundred years old, before Klaus found me.

What could possibly go wrong?

* * *

 **Klaus's Perspective**

Six hours. For six hours, the Mikaelson household was at war, wrangled in a flurry of shouts, thrown fists, and declarations of hatred, a majority of them spawned from the youngest: Rebekah. She was a tornado and a hurricane and a wildfire all wrapped into one furious blonde vampire.

They were all pushed to the brink of exhaustion, caught in a cathartic moment of silence. Only the sound of the clock downstairs pierced the charged yet somehow comfortable silence. _Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock._

Klaus was slouched on the couch next to Kol, both adorned in blood and torn clothes. They had physically attacked each other exactly five times in the last six hours, and the holes in the walls of the study demonstrated it. It wasn't because Kol had the child's best interests at heart. No, he just liked picking fights, and still wanted revenge for his hundred-year stint in a coffin. Now, however, they nursed bourbons, Kol's filled with Klaus's blood, since he had bitten his little brother at one point or another.

Elijah was seated at the desk with a trail of blood smeared across his left cheek and his suit painfully disheveled. He had stepped in somewhere between the second and third time Kol and Klaus attacked each other, and came out worse for wear. It was a shame; he was wearing what Klaus knew to be one of his favorite ties, and it was shredded beyond recognition.

Finn, hidden in a corner of the room, was bloodied too, having pounced on Klaus somewhere near the beginning of the Mikaelson family quarrel but finding himself quickly and thoroughly demolished. He did not intervene again, but Klaus did have to suffer through the heat of his glares.

Rebekah, meanwhile, perched on the edge of the desk, did not have a scratch on her, and yet, she inflicted the most damage on Klaus, even more than Kol. If Klaus, however, had reciprocated even a single blow, Elijah would have eviscerated him. Bekah was off-limits and always had been, even though she was _almost_ (she was the youngest, after all) as strong and invulnerable as the rest of them.

And maybe, deep down, Klaus knew he deserved whatever she gave him.

Esther had been quiet. At first, she attempted to put a stop to their antics, but she then chose wisely to stay out of it and let them deal with their centuries' worth of dysfunction, even leaving a few times, only to come back less than an hour later with an expression that conveyed how disappointed she was in most of them.

Evidently, Rebekah decided that their four minutes and thirty-six seconds of silence was much too long, because she interrupted it with, "I should take her and leave."

Klaus was not as angry as he was the first time he heard her say that, in which he _accidentally_ said something to the degree of, "You will do no such thing, you meddling bitch," in the heat of the moment, and Kol roused their second skirmish. Kol was a strange one. He insulted and teased Rebekah constantly, occasionally to the point of tears, and would until the end of time, but if somebody else did it, then they were in the wrong and he would undoubtedly let them know that.

Klaus responded in a more mature way than he had the first three times she said the same exact thing. "You will not," he said calmly, downing the rest of his alcohol in one swallow and relishing in the way it trailed fire down his throat, before putting the glass aside. "She is not yours to take."

Rebekah's eyes flashed blue fire, and the edge of the desk splintered beneath her clenched hands. "She is a child, not a possession of yours."

Elijah sighed, burying his face into his clasped hands. It wasn't possible for vampires to have headaches, but it seemed that nature was proving his elder brother wrong. "Rebekah, sister, this is a tired argument." He removed his hands from his face, but looked no less exhausted and finished with everything. "We have resolved this. You are not taking her away from Niklaus, but we are not leaving her alone with him."

Klaus resented that deeply, no matter how often his siblings had expressed their concerns over the course of the afternoon. "Leave her alone with me? You speak as if I'm a ticking time bomb seconds away from inflicting horrendous abuse on her. I made a mistake, I apologized, and I regret it. But I love her and I will not hurt her again."

It was true, no matter what they believed. Klaus loved the little girl like she was his own. Somehow, she had wormed her way permanently into his heart with her brashness and wit and feistiness. He had known the wolf child for a month and a half, and yet, he could not imagine living without her. He wasn't sure what he would do if she wasn't trailing by his side or threatening to bite the Salvatores or drawing pictures for his little sister.

Gracie was his little girl now, wasn't she? She was certainly similar to him in ways he was certain she would refuse to admit. There were some positive similarities. They shared a love and talent for art, and a sharp, dangerous intelligence, as well as their inner wolves. But there were also some negative attributes they both held. For instance, they were both relentlessly stubborn, which could come in handy, but annoyed most people. Klaus didn't see the trait as excessive in himself until he felt how much she irritated him consistently with her own batch of stubbornness, and realized they were the same. Klaus also had a vehement pride, but had long since developed checks for himself so it would not interfere with his scheming over the centuries. Grace had no such checks yet. They were devious, manipulative, hot-tempered, and were _sometimes_ a little more aggressive than what a situation called for.

However, Klaus didn't love her despite these characteristics, he loved her because of them. His heart was made of stone, but it belonged to that little girl.

"You made _two_ mistakes," Kol interjected with his characteristic smirk, only for the sake of being catty, effectively bringing Klaus out of his musing.

"The first one was perfectly in the bounds of legality," Klaus snipped. He had already explained both instances in excruciating detail, several times over. Elijah was right. This whole situation was becoming very tiresome.

The first time he laid a hand on her was when they exited Mystic Falls. She was being an incorrigible brat, and he landed a few smacks on her backside. However, she had wiggled out of his hold and had subsequently tumbled out of the truck, which he regretted. In fact, he regretted ever striking her in the first place, but technically, he supposed there was nothing logistically wrong with it. Rebekah had thrown a hissy fit over it, but Kol mentioned it ought to happen again - which Rebekah clawed him in the face for, soon enough starting the third fight between the brothers - and Elijah was understanding, even sympathetic. Finn didn't like it, but nobody had such a strong visceral reaction as Rebekah, considering they grew up in the tenth century, where hidings - not Mikael's abuse - were commonplace.

The second time Klaus struck Grace was entirely his fault, and he took all responsibility for it. He had a lapse of control once she mentioned Mikael, and he was genuinely sorry for it. There were no excuses for the second instance, and he didn't want there to be any. He would not become his father.

"We've rehashed this time and time again," Finn groaned, speaking for the first time in a long while. He addressed Klaus, then, even though it seemed to pain him to do so. "It is clear we will not come to terms with it. Rebekah and I believe you never should have laid a hand on her, while Kol and Elijah agree with the first time but not the second. _Enough_ with this. The real problem the child had was with our lying, Niklaus, and you will have the most difficulty explaining that to her."

"I know that, brother," Klaus retorted harshly, feeling even more on edge than usual, which was a feat in itself. "Have the decency to remember that I have known her for longer than any of you."

"Three days longer than me," Rebekah said dryly, unswayed by his sneering efforts to ostracize the lot of them. She crossed her arms and scoffed, offering him a little sneer of her own. "In which she didn't talk, she wore the same clothes, and you forgot to feed her. Bravo, brother, truly."

Klaus didn't have a good argument for that one. "We were not bonded then. It was a trying time." Rebekah snorted, and the wolf in him stirred, tempted to sink his teeth into her neck and let her deal with the consequences. But, alas, he was not in the mood to be pounded into the ground by his suit-wearing brother. The idea that he could be bested was comical, considering he was the Original Hybrid, but if Klaus hurt the precious Rebekah, then he was certain Elijah would find a way.

"I believe this has come to a logical conclusion," Esther finally announced, for which Klaus was beyond grateful. He had almost forgotten she was even in the room. His mother was a poor mediator, but she did have a knack for knowing when to end arguments between her children. She always had.

There was something off with her, though. Something a little strange. It didn't make much of a difference to him, as he didn't trust her either way and didn't see that changing anytime soon, but nobody could say Klaus wasn't an incredibly suspicious person. And his suspicions simmered every time the woman opened her mouth to speak.

His sister went to protest as soon as Esther finished talking, but Elijah cut in sharply, "Rebekah, that's _enough_ ," and she thankfully fell silent. Even Kol, who had been Klaus's second greatest antagonist during the past several hours, breathed a silent sigh of relief.

Klaus rose up from the couch. "I am going to check on Gracie now." Bloody hell, she had to listen to six hours of viciousness and violence. He owed her. A lot. Perhaps he could bend on giving her the television she desired so badly, despite the fact that it would rot her brain. He imagined the ecstatic look on her face she would sport if he gave her one, and suppressed a smile.

Rebekah stood up with him. "I'm coming with you," she said determinedly, and he fought the urge to roll his eyes. Of course she was. He shouldn't have expected anything else from her. He supposed he should have been appreciative of her loyalty to Grace, but at this point in time, he was more than fed up with her.

Klaus didn't have the stamina left to argue with her, instead deciding to lead the way down the hallway to her bedroom. He didn't knock, but then again, he almost never did, except for when she was particularly angry with him. It was impolite, and the first time he did it was an accident, but it was just too amusing when Gracie grew all flustered about it and shouted at him, and it became a habit.

The room was empty. Klaus immediately felt a rise of panic within him, but within his best efforts, he stomped it down. In all likelihood, she did not want to bear witness to the Mikaelson family drama, and went downstairs, or outside. Yes, that was it. She was probably playing in the leaf piles that formed from the forest surrounding his home. She had a fondness for leaf piles and dirt.

Rebekah arrived to the same conclusion. "I'll bring her inside," she offered, but something caught his eye. The missing pillowcase. In a fraction of a second, he blurred forward, and picked up the gutted pillow, feathers strewn all about. The blood stained into the fabric made him wince, and then he noticed it. "What is it?"

The bear was gone. The green bear Grace named Bekah; it was missing. Upon further inspection, he checked her nightstand, and sure enough, the little Wolverine figurine she had was gone too.

Grace wasn't hiding out in the backyard. She was gone.

A vicious growl tore through his throat as terror brewed inside him. Panic coursed through his veins and it sent his heart racing. Distantly, he could hear his universe imploding around him, and could almost see the fragments of his life rain down to his feet. It was an odd, muddled detachment from reality.

Klaus had seen the sort of anguish parents went through when their children were taken from them, no matter how old. He remembered the devastation his mother suffered when he brought Henrik's lifeless body back home, after he'd been slaughtered by the wolves. He himself had inflicted that same anguish and devastation on parents after killing their adult or even teenaged offspring - he drew the line at hurting little ones.

However, he had never been able to relate before this exact moment. Yes, he had only known the child for a short time in the grand scheme of things, but now that she was missing . . . he would to burn the world to ashes and rubble if it would bring her back to him.

Grace was gone.

"No," Rebekah whispered, horrified, her hands drifting up to her mouth. "No, no, no . . ."

Rage fueling his every thought, he turned around and punched a hole through the wall, wiring and plaster and splinters splitting his knuckles wide open. " _NO_!" he roared, dragging his mangled hand out of the wall only to reach for her three-legged chair, and smash it into pieces. It didn't help.

The rest of his siblings appeared in the doorway in a blur of speed and movement, and by the widening of their eyes and parting of their lips, they realized what was amiss. Elijah, as per usual, was the quickest on the uptake. "We will find her, brother," he breathed. He stepped forward and settled his hands down on both of Klaus's shoulders. "We will _find_ her."

"She's gone," was all Klaus could think to say. "She's gone."

Elijah cupped the side of his neck, and probably would have drawn him into an embrace if Klaus's likely terrifying expression hadn't halted him. "We will find her, and soon. She's probably at Miss Forbes' house -"

And then Klaus's cell phone rang. Shrugging free of Elijah's clutches, he plucked his phone from his back pocket. A flicker of hope blossomed inside of his chest, but he refused to allow it to sprout. If it was Caroline, then he was saved. But if it wasn't . . . _Let it be Caroline_ , he thought. _Let this be over_.

It wasn't Caroline. He immediately went onto high alert at the caller ID. Stefan Salvatore. Elijah peered over his shoulder, his eyebrows furrowing together in an expression that mirrored Klaus's. Frowning deeply, he answered the call with one swipe. "What do you want?"

"Klaus, it's Katherine." Klaus's heart froze solid, and he fought the urge to crush his cell phone into dust. Elijah's breath caught beside him, and Klaus stifled a snarl. He didn't have time to cater to Elijah's centuries' worth of attachment to the damned Petrova doppelgänger.

" _Katerina_ ," he growled. If that wretched woman stole Grace, stole his little wolf, then he would scour the ends of the Earth to rip her apart piece by piece, until she wept and pleaded for death. He would tear into her, split her open, cut through tendons and muscles and bones and organs in one glorious parade of bloodshed.

"I found Grace," she said quickly. "But I didn't take her! I found her at a diner with Stefan, and -"

"Stefan?" Rebekah echoed from somewhere behind him, before Klaus violently shushed her. He was internally warring with himself whether he should allow himself to feel relieved yet or not. Thus far, he was tilted on the scale towards _not_.

"Yeah, Stefan," Katerina snapped on the other end, evidently overhearing his sister's stray remark. "Look, it's not his fault either. She ran away and bumped into him, and apparently she planned on leaving Mystic Falls with or without his help to find out more about her little werewolf schtick, and he didn't want to let an eight-year-old travel across state lines on her own, so he went with her."

As much as a slight trickle of relief was beginning to filter through his system, he still found her explanation to be highly amiss of logic and truth. She made the Salvatore's motives out to be the epitome of purity, but Klaus knew better. This was a foiled revenge plot. And she was conveniently leaving out how _she_ found her path crossing so perfectly with theirs. But right now, that didn't matter to him. "Where is she?" he hissed into the mouthpiece.

"Um, yeah, about that. We're in Memphis, and -"

" _Memphis_?" Klaus, Rebekah, and Kol repeated in unison, the former two out of disbelief and the latter because he quite liked that city in the past and probably was planning a day trip while Grace remained missing.

"Let me talk!" Klaus forced himself not to verbally annihilate her for addressing him with even a smidgen of disrespect, but at the moment, Grace was more important. He would destroy Katerina later. "We're in Memphis, at that house where Grace used to live?" she prompted. "Stefan said you had him kill the two girls that lived there . . . ?"

Klaus knew exactly where she was talking about. When he'd first been there, it was to find Ray Sutton. Little did he know that he would find someone much, much more infinitely precious to him. "Yes, yes. You're there now?"

". . . Yeah." She sounded uncharacteristically hesitant. "Um, about that . . ."

When the resulting silence spanned for a few seconds too long, he gripped the phone so tightly it damn near cracked, and bellowed, " _Speak!_ "

"She set the house on fire and we don't know where she is." Klaus's shoulders slumped downward, and he dropped his head. She set the house on fire. Of course she did. And now she was missing again. Of course she was. "But she can't be far! She slipped away because she sort of temporarily managed to set Stefan on fire, too, and we had to deal with that." Despite himself, a smirk curved the corners of his mouth. That was his girl. "We're looking for her right now. Uh, she found out something about her dad and wolfie side, and well, it wasn't good. That's why she freaked the hell out. I figured you ought to know."

"You wanted to slither into my good graces," he surmised. It probably should've annoyed him more than it did, but he had better priorities now. "Stay right there," he ordered, infusing steel into his tone. "We have much to speak about after _I_ find Grace. Make sure Stefan doesn't go anywhere either."

"Okay," she replied, her voice small, and he angrily ended the call.

Whilst his family was fighting amongst themselves, Grace slipped out from under their noses and fled to another _state_. He was still deciding whether to be relieved that he was aware of her general vicinity or furious that she ran away in the first place. Both. He could be both.

Klaus only wondered what she could have possibly found out that upset her so terribly. He didn't like the fact that she was on her own, but he vowed to find her as soon as physically possible. She had to be alive and intact for him to give her a piece of his mind, anyhow.

Klaus turned around and faced his siblings, who all hovered with various stages of anxiety, ranging from a very worried Rebekah to an entirely nonchalant Kol. "What now?" his sister demanded.

"We're going to Memphis," Klaus commanded, a plan already weaving itself together in his mind. "I will lead the way, since I'm the only one who knows where the damn house is, and you all follow me. Once we get to the house, we split up, and find her. Understood?"

Klaus didn't wait for an answer before speeding away. He would find her, no matter what. Because she was his little girl, and there was nothing he wouldn't do for her.

 **A/N: I told you this chapter was hella long. Like it, love it, hate it? Grace set her old house on fire? It sounds like we're missing something... And she managed to get away, too. Let's see how far she gets before one of the Mikaelsons find her. Out of curiosity, which one would you prefer to find her first? Let me know! :D**


	13. Let It Burn

**A/N: I'm baaaaaaaack! I know, I know, it hasn't been three years and nine and a half months since I updated! Woo hoo, progress! First off, a hearty, a hearty thanks to all of those who have read, followed, favorited, and reviewed, _and_ to those who have given me great advice on which Mikaelson should find Grace! There will also be another Klaus perspective, yaaaay :D. **

**Unfortunately, that isn't this chapter. It was going to be! Really, it was. But then I realized that this chapter was stretching on and becoming more and more of an installment that needed to stand alone. So, the Mikaelsons will meet up with Grace next chapter, I prooooooomiiissseee. I've also taken all of your suggestions to heart on who should find her first, and I think I've come up with the best solution. I would tell you, but spoilers! ;p**

 **This chapter has the big reveal of why Grace is the way she is, though. I'll admit. This chapter was hard for me to write. It kind of broke my heart, since I lost my own dad when I was twelve, and I cried a little when I wrote this. There's a lot of turbulent emotions for Grace. Poor girl! She's been through hell and back, hasn't she? I can say for sure that things do _not_ improve for her this chapter. But they will soon enough! **

**Anyway, without further ado, please read, review, and enjoy! :D**

 **Chapter 13: Let It Burn**

I didn't know how I felt when I first caught a glimpse of my old house as Stefan and I rolled up on his motorcycle. It was my old house, but it was never really my _home_. Daddy was my home, and before my mama left, we lived in a tiny little place with no grandeur or glamour, but it was _home_.

Still, my mood was somber as I slid off the motorcycle seat, especially when it occurred to me that everyone else who lived there with me was dead. And I was back with their murderer, who I was planning on double-crossing at the first chance that arose. A second later, Katherine blurred forward and stopped beside us. Oh, _and_ I was traveling with a five-hundred-year-old vampire who secretly loved my pseudo-vampire uncle and shared a mutual loathing with my pseudo-vampire father.

When I didn't think my life could get any weirder, it did.

"Well, we don't have all day," Katherine announced, piercing the solemn silence that I had found myself caught inside. She was right. The sun was threatening to lower beneath the horizon and among a spatter of thin, wispy clouds, vivid rays of orange and pink and yellow painted themselves across the sky in broad brushstrokes. It was beautiful, but it also reminded me that the clock was ticking. "Let's go. I'm shaking with anticipation to see where wolf kid lived for so long." A smirk hid at the corner of her mouth. "Get it? _Where wolf_ kid lived?"

Stefan and I cast her similar looks of distaste. "Very punny," Stefan deadpanned, then rested a hesitant hand on one of my bony shoulders. "Are you okay, kid? It's not too late to turn back."

"Yeah, it is," Katherine argued, but Stefan glared at her so hard and belligerently that even she decided to cut her losses and shut up.

"I'm okay," I mumbled, shaking off his hands and stalking forward, hugging my pillowcase to my chest for comfort's sake. _I'm okay,_ I repeated in a nervous mantra in my head. _I'm okay. I'm okay._

It smelled the same. Somehow, that was one of the first things I noticed. It still smelled like overgrown daisies and rotting wood and Keisha's marijuana farm in the basement. But, along with that, there was a distinct stench of old, dried blood. Bile rose up in my throat. Oh, right. Stefan brutally murdered them.

My heart lurched in my chest. I didn't want to go in there anymore. This was harder than I thought it would be. Much harder. Yet again, I wished Klaus was with me. But that wasn't right either. He was the one that ordered Stefan to kill Samara and Keisha. He didn't belong here. I steeled myself and moved forward. I had to do this. Katherine was right. There was no turning back now.

I couldn't help but pause once I reached the porch. On the ground, there lay my shoddy bird-feeder, all faded and discolored from its original aqua, probably sun-baked. Samara helped me make it for Father's Day, only a couple months before Daddy died. I painted it myself, though.

I knelt to the ground, thoughtful, and picked the filthy, empty thing up. With a faint, fond smile, I found my crooked, kiddie initials scribbled near the little perch in Sharpie.

 _GS_

I had been so proud of it, and he had loved it, swooping me up into his muscular arms and planting a wet kiss on my forehead. " _It's beautiful, Gracie!_ " he had complimented, grinning from ear to ear. " _Did you do this all for little ol' me?"_

"' _Course I did_ ," I had informed him matter-of-factly. " _You're my daddy, and I love ya."_

He had snuggled against me and propped his chin down on my temple. " _I love you too, baby girl_."

Involuntary tears burned in my eyes, and everything went blurry for a moment. Those were happier times. Everything seemed simpler then, even after I activated my curse and Mama abandoned us. Daddy and I were together, and that was all that mattered. I would give anything to go back to those times. Anything at all.

Sniffing, I wiped my eyes hastily on the back of my sleeve. Not now. I couldn't cry now, not when time was running out. How did it even fall down? It was hanging near the porch lamp before for all the songbirds to feast on, and had weathered through a torrential of rain and wind without budging an inch.

A familiar smell clung to the worn bird feeder. _Klaus_. It all made sense now. He mentioned before that he compelled one of the girls to let him in, and as he manhandled her in the house, he must have knocked over the feeder on the way inside without even noticing it. Why _would_ he notice it? Little things like that didn't matter to him.

But it mattered to me.

A sudden and indescribable surge of anger charged through me like a bolt of lightning, and with all my might, I jumped to my feet and threw the bird feeder into the surrounding woods, listening with distant satisfaction as it shattered against a tree before falling with a soft and final _thud_ to the earth. And yet, a piece of my heart broke along with it.

"O-kay," Katherine muttered behind me, and I wanted to throttle her senseless. "I'm sensing some unresolved issues here . . ."

Stefan beat me to it. "Oh, shut up, Katherine."

"Mmm, you're so hot when you make that grumpy face, Stefan. I mean, that's your face _all_ the time, but -"

Not in the mood for more of Katherine's bullshit, I turned around and shouldered past her. "The sun's setting," I snapped, utterly stone-faced now that I locked my stupid nostalgic emotions away in the back of my mind, where they couldn't hurt me anymore. I had a job to do now.

I ignored the familiar _creaks_ of the wooden steps as I marched upward, and willed myself to forget how many times I had cheerfully flung open that black metal door after a long day of prancing around and playing with the dog. It didn't matter anymore. The love and the happiness was all gone now. Forever. Because of Klaus and Stefan.

The first step inside nearly sent me collapsing to my knees. _Be strong,_ I begged myself. _You can't stop now_. Almost immediately, my eyes wandered to the floorboards and my breath caught halfway out of my lungs. There were two enormous, lopsided circles of dried blood. Oh. _Oh_. This was where they died.

It was messy, I observed detachedly. They had obviously struggled. Stefan probably enjoyed it. I wondered if they suffered a lot before they died, then decided that was a stupid question. Of course they did. Stefan was a ripper. He tore them to pieces. In all likelihood, they died screaming and sobbing, terrified out of their minds, hoping beyond hope that someone - anyone - would come to save them.

And no one did.

The obtrusive circles led to smaller circles of maroon, and then droplets, all the way into the den, where as my legs couldn't help but follow, it stopped on the couch. He must've put their bloodied corpses on the couch after he was finished killing them. I reached down and trailed a finger over the stains.

Keisha had been so adamant about keeping that couch clean. She would never let us eat in the den or anything, for fear of ruining that damn couch. In a twisted sort of way, I was almost glad she was dead, so she couldn't see what became of it.

Wordless, I met Stefan's stricken gaze with an iciness I didn't even know I was capable of. We exchanged something beyond language, where I silently accused him and he silently apologized and I silently refused to forgive him. Samara and Keisha were not my favorite people by any means, but they were young and kind and most of all, didn't deserve to die like they did. They didn't deserve to die so violently and hatefully. They didn't deserve to be reduced to broken, bloodied corpses, as if they were never human to begin with.

"It's getting dark outside," Katherine murmured, for once seeming to grasp the grimness of the moment. Her brown doe eyes flickered between the two of us, missing nothing. She cleared her throat meaningfully. "How about we split up? See if we can find anything at all pertaining to the kid's wolf situation. It'll be faster that way."

"Sure," Stefan said quietly, and I only nodded my head, not quite trusting myself to speak yet. "I'll look in the basement. Katherine, you can check this floor. Grace, do you want to take the second?"

I didn't bother with a response, instead using my advanced werewolf speed to dart up the staircase so I didn't have to look at him anymore. Bringing the girls' murderer back into their home felt more than a little sacrilegious. As soon as I reached the landing, I was bombarded with familiar scents and sights and painful memories. Like before, it damn near crippled me, and this time, I lowered myself to my haunches, sucking in ragged breaths through my teeth. My head spun.

Why did I think I could do this? Why did I think I could go back here and step back into my old world without any consequences? All I wanted to do was curl up into a little ball and cry my heart out. _No!_ I inwardly shouted. _Get up! You have to do this!_

Why did it have to be so hard? Why did _everything_ have to be so hard all the time? I didn't deserve this. Or at least, I didn't _think_ I did. I'd done a lot of bad stuff before, but none of this was fair. There wasn't much more I could take before crumbling and never getting back up.

But I got back up, 'cause I always did, and numbly, headed for Samara's bedroom first, as hers was the least excruciating for me to unearth. Even still, seeing her room full of clothes and jewelry and magazines made me a little choked up. They would never be touched again. I remembered vaguely that both Samara and Keisha were orphans, which was how they met in the first place, when they were teenagers. Nobody even came to gather up their stuff. They didn't have anybody but Daddy and me. Nobody was around to even miss them.

What a horrible thought.

I wasn't exceptionally thorough, but then again, I also didn't think that whatever I was after was going to be in Samara's or Keisha's rooms. Reluctantly, after giving a meager search of the latter's bedroom, I headed toward my room.

My heart pounded in my chest like a jackhammer as I closed the distance to my doorway. This was it. This was almost the entirety of my old life, tucked away in a little girl's bedroom. I wasn't sure what to expect as I twisted the door knob. For it to be trashed? Ransacked? Ruined?

It wasn't. No, as I gently pushed open the door, I realized with an agonizing start that everything was exactly where I'd left it. Everything was the same. I forgot to breathe again as I stepped inside, knees wobbling, into a new universe.

My pale blue walls were decorated with drawings and paintings and Disney princess posters. My bedspread was of the Hogwarts crest, back when all I did was draw and read. Just where I'd abandoned them, my worn-out _Harry Potter_ books were strewn on and near my unmade bed. The fifth one still had a bookmark in it that I'd snatched from a public library a while back. Chapter eighteen, if I remembered correctly.

Toys of all different varieties littered the floor. Barbies, stuffed animals, old baby dolls that I had a strange fascination with. But most of all, I zeroed in on my small horse figurines. All eight of them were lined up prim and proper on my chipped white desk. They had been my ultimate favorite things to play with. I invented so many silly games with the hordes of horses, inviting me to a land far away, with endless green pastures and open skies and freedom. They had been Daddy's when he was little, and then he passed them down to me.

Reaching for one, I made it clop against the surface of the desk, as I had done so many times before, wearing out both the material of the hooves and the desk alike. With a trembling hand, I dropped them into my pillowcase. If I wanted to keep anything, it would be those horses.

For the next fifteen painstaking minutes, I searched through every nook and cranny of my old bedroom, looking for any clues to my werewolf nature as well as my favorite possessions to tuck away, which ended up being my stuffed lion, the third _Harry Potter_ book, and a golden, heart-shaped locket with a picture of my paternal grandma inside holding an infant me on her lap. She died when I was little, but I remembered loving her very much. She had been a wolf too, Daddy told me. And finally, I kept a photograph that Keisha took of my daddy and I at the county fair a few months back, the both of us clinging onto each other with wide grins in front of the ferris wheel. It was my favorite picture of him.

After another ten minutes of searching, it became apparent to me that whatever I was searching for wasn't in here, which paved the way to my final and most difficult destination. Daddy's room.

This was the room I had been dreading the most, even over my own bedroom. I wanted to avoid it. I wanted to scurry downstairs instead and tell Katherine and Stefan that, sorry, I didn't find anything, but did they, pretty, pretty please? And yet, I knew, in my heart of hearts, that if I was bound to find _anything_ in this big old house, it would be in his bedroom.

I padded quietly down the hallway with my now heavier pillowcase slung over my shoulder, and it felt like my chest was going to burst open with anticipation. It occurred to me in this moment, as I neared my dead daddy's bedroom, how _alone_ I was. Despite what I'd been through in the last month and a half, I hadn't really been alone, what with Klaus almost always by my side. And before that, I had my daddy.

But now? I was truly alone.

Shaking like a leaf, I turned the knob on his door, and pushed it open. Like before, I didn't know what to expect. All I knew was that I didn't expect it to _hurt_ so badly.

It still smelled like him. That's what I noticed first. The room carried the same old mildly canine musk that I had long associated with him. Like a mixture of aftershave and sweat and werewolf and love. When he hugged me, I would inhale that scent, and I knew I was safe. And stepping into that room, into his scent that surrounded me from all sides, it was almost as if I was encircled in his arms once more. " _You're safe now, Gracie_ ," he would say.

I felt an incoming rush of tears, but this time, I didn't try to stop it.

Daddy had been a neat person - tidy, even, and his bedroom reflected this. It was so _him_. His bed was made with the sheets tucked in all four corners, because he didn't cheat like I did, his drawers were all closed shut, and there was nothing on his floor but polished hardwood. It was like he had never lived here at all, and yet, he could have walked back in at any minute and thrown himself onto his bed without taking his shoes off, like he always did. He could come in right through his door, and everything would be okay again.

But he wouldn't. And it _hurt_.

Regretting it instantly, I chanced a glance over at his closet, and found it slightly ajar. The sight and smell of his rows of well-worn plaid shirts hit me in the gut like a wrecking ball, reminding me of when I lost it in the department store in Chicago. He always wore those plaid shirts.

My legs carrying me of their own accord, I fumbled for a sleeve, and then a cuff, and for a moment, it felt like I was holding his hand again. The mere thought of it almost bowled me over.

And then I noticed a flash of color. Tentatively, I slid the shirts aside, and there it was. A picture. A picture I'd drawn for him not long after my mama left us. It was a little silver and white wolf crouched down next to a bigger gray one. He was tilted over her, tensed, poised for protection, and she gazed up at him with big blue eyes in absolute, pure adoration. Together, they howled at the yellow full moon, and in the grass below the wolves, sloppy letters spelled out, _I love you, Daddy._

I didn't know he had kept it all this time. And that was when I broke.

"No, no," I choked out, dissolving into pitiful sobs and whimpers, sinking to the floor. " _Daddy_ . . ." Desperately, aimlessly, I yanked one of his plaid shirts down off a hanger, ignoring the _riiiiiippppp_ that traveled along with it, and draped it across my shoulders, drowning myself in his scent. Weeping uncontrollably, I wrapped the sleeves around myself and tied them into a loose knot, and for a bittersweet moment, it felt like he was hugging me again.

There was a _whooshing_ sound, and sure enough, through my blurred sheen of tears, I could make out the figures of both Stefan and Katherine standing in the doorway. Pity was etched deep into Stefan's expression, and even Katherine looked unusually sober. "Maybe getting an eight-year-old to go through her dead father's stuff was a bad idea," Katherine remarked to nobody in particular, and I was taken aback by her almost rueful tone, as if she genuinely felt a little bad over it.

Stefan sent her a dirty look before moving to kneel in front of me. He seemed to want to ask if I was okay, as was his habit, but something about my hysterical crying and blubbering must've convinced him that, no, I was not okay, and asking would solve nothing. "Do you want to go home?" he said instead, his voice softer than usual. "I can call Klaus, get him over here. You can be done now."

There was nothing I wanted more at that moment than Klaus. But it was too late now. Instead of answering, I curled my knees up to my chest and buried my face inside my folded arms, as if I could shut the whole damn world out and everything would be okay again.

But was it ever really okay?

"I'll call him," Katherine voiced when I continued on my path of avoidance. She must've stepped inside, because the wooden floorboards creaked and groaned underneath her high heels. One board made a particularly shrill shrieking noise, and she paused. "Did that sound weird to you? Wait a second." There was a flurry of sound, and then something shifted - she was removing the floorboard. "Stefan, look at this."

As I lifted my head up in mild curiosity, still sniffling heavily, Stefan walked over to her and peered down over her shoulder. "Blow me down," he said with a breathy, humorless laugh. He lowered himself to the floor and retrieved something that I couldn't see at my angle. "If you and your heels weren't here, Katherine, we might've not found this."

"You're welcome," she replied smugly, plucking the object from his grip and waving it at me like a flag of victory. "We found something, kid." And sure enough, they did. It was an old tape with the words _To Grace_ scribbled on the white strip. It was Daddy's handwriting. "Here." She casually tossed it over to me, and I caught it in midair, wincing at the dust coating the surface of it. "Now. Do you want me to call Klaus, or do you want to get answers?"

Determinedly, I scrubbed my cheeks with my palms, untied the shirt, and forced myself to stand. "I want answers."

Ten minutes later, the three of us were seated on the couch in the den, after I tossed the blood-stained cushions out the front window. Stefan pushed the tape into the ancient VCR, and then we spent another five minutes searching high and low for the remove control. Katherine eventually found it under the couch, underneath a pile of stale popcorn. "Aha!"

I graciously accepted it from her, but once I had it in my hands, I couldn't find it in myself to press play. What was on the tape? What if they weren't the answers I wanted? What if there weren't _any_ good answers? Stefan seemed to read my mind, and plucked the remote away from me, pressing play for me. I looked at him with ' _thank you'_ written across my face, and he merely nodded.

The TV stuttered, and then Daddy came on the screen, sitting in the same den where we were now. It was as if every breath in my body was squeezed and pushed and strangled out of my lungs. I stifled a gasp at the sight of him, and my insides coiled into a tight, painful little ball of suppressed emotions. I missed him so much it _burned_.

Daddy looked exactly the same as he ever did, with his dark blond, brownish hair and scruffy beard and blue-striped plaid shirt. He smiled faintly, and a shredded breath dragged through me. It was like looking into a mirror; our smiles, along with our eyes, were identical. " _Hi, Gracie."_

 _Gracie._ I never thought I would hear him call me that again. It sent a bloom of warmth flooding through me, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. It almost made whatever he would say next worth it. But not quite.

His smile faltered, and he clasped his hands together, twiddling his thumbs, something I recognized as one of his nervous tics. " _Um, so it looks like Samara or Keisha actually listened to me for once and gave this to you. Or maybe you found it on your own. You've always been a smart little thing._ " I smiled indulgently at his face on the screen. Just hearing his _voice_ again made my spirit soar in ways I couldn't even begin to describe. " _But, um_ . . ." He coughed into his shoulder, and then sighed deeply. " _If you're watching this now, then that means I'm dead_."

My entire world came screeching to a stop around me. No, _no_ , that didn't make sense. Didn't make sense at all. Why . . . why would he make a video? Neither of us had any clue that Klaus was after him until he arrived at the Southern Comfort with a smirk and a smarmy British-sounding accent.

"Who makes a video about an off-chance death at the hands of a homicidal vampire?" Katherine commented with a blatantly suspicious note to her tone. I wanted to tell her to shut up, but I was kind of wondering the same thing.

"No one," Stefan murmured ominously.

I was unconsciously shaking my head as Daddy started to talk again, and my universe continued to plummet into oblivion. " _I'm sorry, baby. I'm really sorry I didn't explain it all before I went. I just . . . couldn't, you know_?" His ocean-blue eyes - _my_ eyes - spoke volumes to me. " _I didn't want our last moments together to be like that. I didn't want you to be angry with me_." He pursed his lips, as if trying to hold back tears. " _It was selfish, I know. So selfish. But I guess a dying man's allowed to be a little selfish._ "

I could only sit there, frozen stiff. No. _No_. He couldn't . . . he _wouldn't_. . . I didn't understand.

Daddy began to wring his hands together. " _Um . . ._ " He released a dry, pained chuckle. " _Guess I shouldn't have waited until the last minute to do this, huh? I never had a way with words - at least, not like you do._ " Despite his apparent distress, he somehow managed to smile again. " _You've always had a silver tongue._ "

"Get to the point," Katherine grumbled, and I glowered at her so malevolently that even she, a five-hundred-year-old vampire, recoiled backwards. At any other time, I would've been proud of myself, but I was busy listening to my dead daddy turn my life upside down beyond the grave.

It was as though he heard her. " _Gracie, I don't know how much you remember after you first turned. But, um, you weren't doing so hot, kiddo. I thought_ -" His voice raised in pitch and cracked. "- _I thought you were gonna die._ "

For the second time today, a foreign memory itched at the back of my mind. A memory of being bundled in layers and layers of blankets as I shivered and ached and sweated. I remembered Daddy sticking a thermometer under my tongue and swearing violently as he read the number.

It was beginning to come back to me now.

* * *

" _Am I sick, Daddy?" I had mumbled into my pillow, a little delirious. "Is it real bad?" It was as if I was trapped in a freezer and the cold was slowly but surely suffocating me with its evil, icy hands from the inside out. "Do I haveta see a doctor? Hate doctors."_

 _My mattress dipped with his weight, and a cool palm brushed against my forehead. "I don't think a doctor can help with this, Gracie."_

 _Somewhere, in my delusional state, that struck me as odd. "Wha . . . ? Why?" I struggled to peel open my eyes, but it was too hard, and I gave up. "Doctors fix people. I wanna get fixed. Don't feel good."_

" _I know you don't feel good, baby." A much larger, more calloused hand gripped mine, and distantly, I felt a little better. "I'm gonna fix this. You hear?" His thumb caressed the back of my hand. "I'm gonna take you to a really special doctor, and he or she's gonna make you better."_

 _I clung to him, because in the distorted, muddled dimension my mind was trapped in, he was all that I could sense. "Promise?"_

 _Daddy planted a ghost of a kiss down on my temple. "I promise."_

* * *

I remembered now. How sick I was. Not just sick, though. _Really_ sick. I had been dying. On death's doorstep, even.

" _I didn't know what to do,_ " Daddy continued to recall. He must've been so scared, I realized with a painful start. He had nobody to rely on but himself, and his only child was dying. I couldn't even imagine what he had gone through. " _I knew doctors weren't gonna help. I was scared they'd take you away from me if they found out you were different, and then you'd die on your own. I-I couldn't do that, Gracie. I couldn't let that happen. You have to understand that._ "

"What did you do, Daddy?" I whispered.

He had answers that I didn't want to hear. " _So I took you to a witch. Five of them in total. The first four didn't work out. They told me you were going to die, and that wasn't an option. But the fifth one_. . ." He trailed off miserably.

The fifth one had a solution, I finished for him in my mind. The fifth one had a solution, but it wasn't a good one. " _She, um, she told me she could make you better. And she performed some magic on you, that as far as I know, you don't remember. It was called Expression, I think."_ Katherine inhaled sharply beside me, but I paid her no mind. A single tear rolled down Daddy's cheek, joining with the corner of his mouth. " _It hurt you. You were screaming and crying. It was one of the worst things I ever saw or heard in my whole damn life."_

And then I remembered.

* * *

" _Daddy, I'm scared." The strange lady had made me stretch across a bare metal table that was hell against my aching, dying body. I was so cold, and I shivered from chill and fear alike as the strange lady bound my hands and feet with heavy manacles. Why was she doing this to me? Why was Daddy letting her? "Daddy, what's she doing to me?"_

" _She's gonna make you better, baby." He held into my immobile hand, stroking the back of it. His own trembling hand sent tremors through my arm, like individual shock waves. He was as scared as I was. Maybe even more. "You won't be so sick anymore. You'll be healthy and strong."_

" _Is it gonna hurt?" I whimpered, and he visibly swallowed, looking to the strange lady for answers. At the sight of her nod, my stomach dropped below the table, and Daddy looked stricken. "I don't wanna do this."_

" _You have to," he murmured, but his eyes were shinier than usual. "It'll make you better. Be brave, Gracie. Be strong. I'll be with you every step of the way and you can hold onto my hand as tight as you want to. I'll be right here, I promise."_

 _I opened my mouth to beg him to let me go, to tell him again that I didn't want to do this, that I wanted to go home, but before I could, the strange lady lit a candle beside me and started chanting in a weird, foreign language, and then there was the pain. The raw, merciless agony shot through every corner and crevice of my body, raging and scorching and wailing, destroying and healing everything in its path._

 _I screamed louder than I had in my entire life, and Daddy cried along with me._

* * *

" _But it made you better,_ " he said huskily, wiping away his tear with the palm of his hand, sniffing noisily. He valiantly tried to maintain his composure. " _And that's what matters. It made you stronger than you were."_ He wet his lips and drew in a deep breath. Whatever was next, he didn't want to say it. " _It made you stronger than a normal werewolf._ "

This was it. This was what I wanted to hear - no, _needed_ to hear. Why I fled home in the first place. What everyone had lied to me about for so long. The truth about who I was - the truth about _what_ I was. This was the moment I'd been waiting for since I'd first turned. Because there had always been an inkling of doubt, lurking in the far boundaries of my mind. Somehow, deep down, I had known from the beginning that there was something wrong with me.

Daddy sure as hell didn't disappoint. All the stalling and stuttering that quirked his speech earlier gave way to a crisp, but somber straightforwardness. " _She made you better than a normal werewolf. For one, she made it so you could not only survive, but_ thrive." That much was true. I was strong and healthy and a force to be reckoned with. But what else? There was more, so much more. " _And she gave you extra abilities. She allowed you to be able to bite and transmit venom into vampires in your human form. As far as I know, you're the only werewolf in the world who can do that._ " But _why_ , I wanted to know. Why? I needed to know more. Needed to. More, more, more! " _In a world where werewolves are damn near extinct, you needed an advantage against the laws of nature._ " But _why_? Why did I have to be different? Other wolves made do with what they had, what was so special about _me_?

In hindsight, I wish I'd never heard the answer. No, I wish I'd never even looked for it. Because it was easier not knowing. Blissful ignorance wasn't a lie after all. I wish I'd accepted the lie at face value, and moved on. That I hadn't dug deeper. Fished for more. Searched for the buried truth. Because in that fabricated, treasured reality, Daddy was my hero. Daddy was everything good and kind and loving in the world, and I missed him more than anything. He was purer than a saint, taller than a god. His life was taken from him in a moment of indifferent cruelty. It couldn't be helped. It was unavoidable. He was murdered, and he was faultless, blameless. There was nothing he could've done, because he hadn't known what was in store for him.

But the truth always comes out in the end, doesn't it?

It was so much easier to blame Stefan and Klaus, and hate them for it. Because even though I learned to love the Original hybrid, I hated him too. Loathed him, even, deep down. Sure, I blamed Stefan most of the time, because he essentially pulled the trigger - but I knew full well who loaded the gun.

But, in the end, it didn't matter at all. And that was the exact moment my world caught on fire.

I listened in rapt attention as Daddy said, his voice lowered to a pained rasp, " _I had to do it, Gracie, because I knew I wouldn't be there to protect you. You had to be able to survive without me. You see, she wasn't a good sort of witch. She did dark magic. But it didn't matter to me, because she . . . she was the only one who could save you. I had to save you, and I would've done anything in the whole damn world to save my baby girl_."

His voice cracked, then faltered, and his expression crumpled into tears and regret and sorrow. Slowly, but surely, I was beginning to put the pieces together. I was beginning to understand. " _You have to understand that, if nothing else. You_ have _to understand that_. _In exchange for saving your life, she, um, wanted_ my _life._ "

I felt very cold then. It was as though tendrils of ice danced and maneuvered beneath my skin, freezing everything in its uncaring path and rendering me stone in the ugly face of the truth. Because, somehow, I knew what he was going to say. " _She wanted my life energy for some ritual or sacrifice, I don't know. I wasn't really listening._ " He breathed out a laugh wrought with bitter humor and self-loathing. " _It didn't matter to me as long as it would save you. She gave me two years to live, but I knew that, without me, you'd need to be able to protect yourself. And so, with your extra powers, she cut it down. That was on August 21, 2009, and she gave me exactly one year."_

August 21, 2010 was one week after Stefan killed my daddy. That day in the Southern Comfort, he had a week left to live, and I had no idea. It didn't even matter. All this time I blamed Klaus and Stefan for entering my life and ripping it to shreds, and it didn't matter at all. He would've died anyway. When Klaus strolled into the Southern Comfort that fateful day, he met a dead man walking, and his cheerfully clueless daughter.

I didn't hear much else of the tape. He apologized again, I think. Might've apologized a few times. Said he should've told me earlier, so I could've prepared. So he could've prepared me for the rest of my life, the life I was doomed to live without him. He said he loved me again and again and again. Called me "Gracie" and "baby." Told me he loved me some more.

It brought me nothing. It didn't matter anymore. None of it did.

It was a peculiar sensation, feeling my entire universe dissolve into perfect and overwhelming nothingness. It was as if I was swimming in the ocean for the past year, and it wasn't everything I'd wanted, but the waves were gentle and the sky was cloudless and I could squish the ground below between my toes. It was good. It was safe. But then the sky darkened, and there was a boom of thunder and terror, and the ocean came to life with deadly wrathful precision. It swirled and roared and crashed all around me, and the ground disappeared beneath my feet. Blackened clouds sailed overhead and flashes of lightning followed barricades of thunder. I was sucked under, screaming and shouting and wailing for my life, and relentless sea water invaded my lungs and pulled me down. I drifted down and down and down as happiness and love and life blinked out of existence, and finally, when I could hope no longer, I died.

Stefan turned off the tape, and there was silence. They were expecting me to explode. To lose my mind. To attack and hurt and maim. But I didn't. I _couldn't_. No, I only sat there in quiet numbness, too tired to do anything, let alone move. How _tired_ I was. All I wanted to do was close my eyes and sleep for the rest of eternity, where I could feel no more pain, no more _anything_. Just . . . nothing.

"Grace?" Stefan eventually asked, disrupting and slashing through the crushing silence. "Do you want us to call Klaus now?"

I shook my head. No, I did not want them to call Klaus. I didn't want to see Klaus. I didn't want to see any of them, ever again. Not Klaus, not Rebekah, not Caroline, not Elijah, not Finn, not Kol, not _Daddy_. Everyone who ever claimed to love or even care about me was dead to me now.

"You can cry, if you want," Katherine said in a stilted, awkward sort of tone, like she comprehended what I just witnessed had been devastating to me on every level of consciousness, but she also didn't really want me to cry because she didn't know how to deal with it. I shook my head again, which must've relieved her, if even only fractionally.

I stood up, and they mirrored my abrupt movement. "I'm going upstairs," I said robotically, without any emotion or inflection to speak of. "Don't follow me." Stiffly, with one hand still gripped futility onto my pillowcase, I walked towards the staircase with purpose. By the sounds of their footsteps behind me, they didn't listen, and the first burst of anger jolted through my shield of ice. Turning around, I bared my teeth in a threatening snarl, allowing my eyes to glimmer gold for a second. " _Don't follow me_."

This time, they didn't follow.

I was in no hurry to climb the staircase, but climb it I did, as if something was pushing me forward. Unlike before, the room I was headed toward was Daddy's. Before, I wanted to avoid it. Now? It held no such reluctance for me. Everything I had wanted to avoid had already wrecked me. What was there to dread now? Nothing. There was nothing now.

When I stepped inside his bedroom again, I did not react the same. I didn't feel the telltale prick of tears, or the air forced from my lungs. It hardly affected me at all. Not his smell, not his well-made bed, not the plaid shirts hanging undisturbed in his closet. It wasn't bittersweet anymore.

No, it was _infuriating_.

Every inch of me hummed and rumbled and simpered for me to release the semblance of stability I clutched onto for dear life, and fall into the abyss of hot fury and cold rage and wild lividness. _Give in_ , my mind pleaded with me. _Give in!_

 _Not yet,_ I whispered back. _But I will_. And the soft wave of dark urges ebbed away, waiting impatiently but waiting nonetheless.

A sharp tang caught my attention, a strong odor of something I hadn't noticed the first time around. I followed my nose to his nightstand, and with a hand as steady as a stone, I opened up the top drawer. Inside the drawer rested a row of three bottles of liquor. Tequila, I recognized on the label. One of them was half-drank already. He never got to finish it. I refused to allow myself even a twinge of sadness because of it.

I opened the drawer beneath, and then the drawer beneath that. In each one, there were bottles of booze stuffed away. He drank a lot after Mama left. I spent a lot of time in dingy old bars with him. I always assumed it was because his wife tried to kill his daughter and then abandoned him and his daughter turned into a vicious werewolf, because that would drive any sane person to drink, but _of course_ there was more to it. He was dying, and he didn't know how to handle it.

Sitting down on his mattress, I took one of the bottles out, picking listlessly at the peeling label. And then I saw it. Underneath the bottle, there'd been a pack of cigarettes and . . . and a lighter. Before I could stop myself, I reached for the lighter, and flicked it open, watching in cool gratification as the flicker of yellow sparked out of nowhere, then extinguished to my will.

And with a bottle of alcohol in one hand, and a lighter in the other, I, half-crazed, stumbled upon a plan. I had to leave. Had to. There was nothing left for me back in Mystic Falls, and there wasn't a way in _hell_ I was going back there. Daddy gave up his goddamn _life_ so I could survive on my own. If he wanted that so bad, then I would.

I hated him for it. So, so much. In fact, I didn't think I'd ever hated another person so much. Because I had also _loved_ him more than anyone, which made his betrayal hurt that much worse. It left a fresh, gaping hole inside of me that only seemed to stretch wider and wider as each minute passed. Maybe I could understand that he would do anything for his only child. I wasn't unreasonable. I could understand him giving up his life for me, because I would've done it for him in a heartbeat.

But he should have _told me_. When would he have told me, if Stefan hadn't killed him first? Would he have given me a week to prepare for the death of the most important person in my existence? Would he have waited for the night before, so I'd cry myself to sleep with him by my side? Or would have told me on the day of?

And then, there was the final, most excruciating option. Would he have told me at all? Or would he have dropped dead in front of me, leaving me with horror and grief and endless questions? Would he have dropped me off with Samara and Keisha and vanished into the night? My heart clenched at the thought of it. What if he'd left me with them, and left me with the notion that my daddy, who was supposed to love me forever, was abandoning me, like Mama did? What if I hadn't even known he _died_ until years later, trapped between despising him for leaving me behind and wishing he'd come home, without knowing he never would? Without knowing he never _could_?

Somehow, I knew that's what he would have done. That's what he'd been hinting in the tape, anyhow. That he never told me. That he disappeared without explanation. He would have left me with insecurities and self-loathing and the permanent question of _why me_? Why did both of my parents abandon me? Was I unlovable? Did I deserve this?

The mere thought of it threatened to erode my love for him, and replace it with hatred. And so, it wasn't too hard to unscrew the lid of the bottle, and pour its contents onto his bed, his pillows, his sheets. One by one, I doused his bedroom with the bottles of liquor, and placed the empty bottles carefully aside, so Stefan or Katherine wouldn't hear.

I dribbled the alcohol onto his nightstand, all across the floorboards, _especially_ into the one which had held the tape. I splattered it silently onto the walls, watching as the brown liquid slid down the plaster in little droplets. And finally, with the last damn bottle, I soaked all of his _stupid_ plaid shirts, and made sure to stain and ruin the picture behind them, the picture I had so lovingly drawn him. The graphite smeared and mixed beneath the liquor, and the wolves dissolved into a soggy, unrecognizable mess.

It occurred to me then what I was really doing, what this truly meant, and the glacier I had built around my heart cracked and shattered into pieces. The remains melted into sludge as the anger I'd been holding back for so, so long surged forward in a blaze of glory. All of my indifference and coldness dissolved into rage, and wrenching myself forward, I loosed a strangled, furious shriek as I crumbled and rebuilt myself with fire. "I hate you! I _hate_ you! I HATE YOU!"

It was too late to go back now - and I didn't _want_ to. With the bottle and pillowcase in one hand, and the match in the other, I reached forward for his nearest shirt, smiled in a deranged sort of way, and set it ablaze.

In less than a second, the flames licked up the fabric and demolished it, catching onto the surrounding shirts and then, the closet as a whole. Soon enough, it reached the floorboards and the walls, and delicately, I stepped out of the room as I watched the remains of my daddy's life and legacy literally go up in flames.

For the first and only time in my life, I was glad that he was dead.

"What the hell did you do?" came from behind me as Stefan and Katherine blurred up the staircase, wearing identical expressions of shock. Stefan continued, flabbergasted, the fire reflecting off his handsome face, "You could've gotten yourself killed!"

I don't know what came over me then. I needed to get away from this house, needed to run. It didn't help that I was a _little_ unstable, either. It seemed like a good idea at the time. And as much as I hated Daddy now for lying to me about something _so damn important_ , Stefan _did_ kill him, and - well. I never got my revenge, did I?

And so, I splashed him with the rest of the alcohol left in the bottle, and threw the lighter at him. As his shirt caught alight, I pushed him, and sent him spiraling down the staircase, the vampire shouting from pain and surprise alike. Katherine rushed to his side as his skin began to bubble and blister, and the sound that erupted from his chest was not one I preferred to hear again.

"Goodbye, Stefan," I muttered, not bothering to stay and see if he lived or died. I sprinted towards the far hallway window with my pillowcase, shoving the rusty old thing open, and leaped out into the night.

 **A/N: All righty then, that was an emotional rollercoaster. It was genuinely hard for me to write. *Tear*. And so, here are the answers. Ray Sutton was a man living on bought time, and in the end, Stefan and Klaus killing him didn't make much of a difference after all. He gave up his life for his daughter, due to a witch that may *cough*cough* or may not later appear in the story. How will Klaus feel about this? How will Grace come to terms with it?**

 **Next chapter, the Mikaelsons find Grace. And there'll be another Klaus perspective! But how will they convince her to return?**


	14. Home Is Where the Heart Is

**A/N: Gaaaaaaaah, it's been a month. I suck. I know. I'm aware of this. I'm sorry! AP classes are a real pain. Also, I kept changing my mind for what should take place in this chapter SO MANY TIMES. I ended up cutting it off at a certain spot because it got _too_ long.**

 **Thank you so much for all the favorites, follows, and reviews. Love you guys! I took in and considered all of your suggestions on who should find Grace first, and it was very hard to choose, but I chose what I think works best for Grace's volatile state of mind. I hope everyone's okay with who I chose! Grace will be reuniting with two Mikaelsons this chapter, actually.**

 **Also, to the reviewer who said that I'm baiting people with Klaroline, that's not my intention. This is first and foremost a story about Grace and Klaus, yes, but Klaroline will happen. Once Grace is back home, it'll start picking up more, but I don't want to rush it. Grace is an impetus of change in this story, but I don't want her to change events _too_ much, at least not at first, and when it comes down to it, Caroline was not _exceptionally_ into Klaus at this point in the show. **

**There is, however, a brief phone call featuring Caroline this chapter, and she will appear next chapter. I'm sorry if it's been coming across as if I'm baiting with Klaroline, again, this is not my intention.**

 **Anywho, there's another Klaus perspective this chapter (yay!) and I won't hold you guys up. Please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks so much! :D**

 **Chapter 14: Home Is Where the Heart Is**

 **Klaus's Perspective**

Sure enough, when Klaus arrived at the home in Memphis with his siblings hot on his heels, the house was ablaze, orange tendrils of fire and black curls of smoke weaving together in a tapestry of destruction.

It was a little difficult for Klaus to wrap his mind around that _Grace_ did that. Sure, she had violent tendencies and an aggressive nature, which amused him more than anything else, but as far as he was aware, she wasn't a pyromaniac. She was a bit obsessed with biting vampires, but that was an entirely separate matter.

"Bloody hell," Kol said behind him, sounding a little _impressed_ , which irked Klaus, considering the direness of the situation. "She actually set it on fire. The pup has a dark side, doesn't she?"

"We don't have _time_ for this," Rebekah snapped, stomping forward. The fire reflected yellow off her youthful face, dancing and twisting about in her narrowed eyes. Kol mumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "rude little bint," which Rebekah would've reacted to in any other instant if she weren't so worried.

In the midst of the flames, two black silhouettes emerged, one supporting the other. The male figure's smell registered first, and a low growl rumbled in Klaus's chest as the younger Salvatore brother and Katerina Petrova hobbled forward, each with smoke clinging close to their skin. On further inspection, Stefan looked much worse for wear. His shirt hung off him in tatters, and the skin of his chest beneath was still healing from what appeared to be severe burns.

Klaus didn't waste another second in contemplation before rushing forward, and gripping the traitorous little ripper by the throat, hoisted him into the air with hardly an ounce of effort. The Salvatore gurgled, and his hands flew to Klaus's iron grip in a vain effort to remove it. "Well, if it isn't the child-thief himself."

"Klaus -" he choked out, but Klaus only tightened his hold, effectively crushing his esophagus.

"You took," his words were punctuated with a harsh shake, "my _daughter_ to another state!"

Klaus didn't realize he had even uttered "daughter" until after he said it. But it was true. She was his now. Others might look at the arrangement with a skeptical eye, since theoretically, he took her under his wing without her original consent, and it had been only a month and a half or so, but he loved her. It had been the same with . . . him. With Marcellus. He had begun to view the boy as a son of sorts within the first week. But look where that had gotten him. He was dead, but he would _never_ let the same thing happen to Grace.

It had almost happened, much to his despair. Mikael had nearly killed his girl in the same way he killed his boy. It had been close. Stefan had rushed to her first, hadn't he? Klaus would have if Stefan hadn't, and he used the opportunity to end his father's life. But Stefan, even without his humanity, had gone out of his way save her life. He supposed that meant he owed him something, although he did steal his family right afterwards.

Feeling a smidgen of mercy that he hadn't felt before Grace entered his life, he dropped Stefan. The younger vampire collapsed to the grass, coughing violently. Klaus turned to the Petrova doppelgänger, and offered her a menacing scowl. "Zdravei, Katerina."

The brunette con woman visibly gulped. "Klaus." Her observant brown eyes then flicked over to the rest of his family, resting on Elijah in a manner that made Klaus want to pluck her heart from her chest. ". . . Elijah. Uh, well, don't you all look . . . bloody." She was addressing Kol and Finn, too, in that blanket statement, and neither looked particularly pleased to be spoken to by her. Kol had hated Tatia from the beginning and subsequently despised the rest of the Petrova bloodline, while Finn, despite his martyr complex, didn't appreciate being disrespected.

"Katerina," Elijah said neutrally, even though he was surely experiencing a variety of conflicting emotions. He ignored her final remark. "Have you found the child yet?"

Katerina's gaze flitted downwards. "No."

"What happened?" Rebekah demanded, her distaste for the doppelgänger a secret to no one. "How did she manage to get the jump on _both_ of you? And how did she manage to set the bloody house on fire anyway?"

"She set her father's room on fire after dousing it in alcohol," Stefan said dryly, picking himself off the grass and brushing himself off. He looked a little resentful - whether it was towards Grace or Klaus himself, Klaus couldn't care less. "She was so quiet, and - well. We wanted to give her some time alone. We didn't think she'd be doing _that_. We were both more than a little surprised to see her stepping out of the room _after_ she set it on fire."

As much as he wanted her back, Klaus would have to resist the urge to throttle some sense into her. She drenched her father's bedroom in alcohol - which didn't make sense to him at all in the first place - and promptly set it on fire without leaving the room _first_? Now he had another reason to yell at her, and he planned to extend it for a long, long time.

"She lit the room ablaze without leaving it first?" Finn spoke for the first time, stepping forward, his brow creased in genuine concern. Despite his own suspicions, Klaus had to accept that his eldest brother did seem to care about the little werewolf. They had bonded when she attempted to teach him about the modern world. She'd been kind to him, and thus, he latched onto her.

It was a little pathetic, really, in Klaus's opinion, but if there was another immortal person in Gracie's corner, then he supposed the more the merrier.

"She could have gotten seriously hurt," Elijah said with sharp disapproval, and Klaus almost shuddered at the thought of the spirited little girl trapped inside a wall of flames, burning alive, screaming . . . Like Marcellus must have . . .

"Yeah, I told her the same thing," Stefan replied with a rueful expression, fingering his burnt and blackened shirt sleeve. "And then she splashed me with the rest of the alcohol and set me on fire, so . . ."

Grace was a temperamental little thing, but Klaus found it hard to believe that she would have _intentionally_ tried to murder someone without proper provocation. Setting someone on fire was no small act. Perhaps the child was a bit more damaged in the head than Klaus had originally assumed. It did nothing to devalue her appeal, but he supposed it wasn't healthy.

"You must've provoked her," said Rebekah haughtily, and Stefan recoiled, almost jumping to retort before biting his tongue. Once, his little sister would have never spoken to Stefan with such a contemptuous, bitter tone. She had loved him once, as she had loved before, and would love again. But after she found out about his tryst with Elena, she had no patience for the ripper. "I know Gracie. She wouldn't have tried to kill you for no reason at all."

"Are you sure about that?" Kol asked dubiously. Klaus wanted to shut him up. What did he know about Grace? He was her least favorite family member, and for good reason. "Honestly, I've only known her for a matter of days, and she is a violent child. She's bitten Elijah, she's bitten me. She's no pacifist."

"Kol's right," Elijah acquiesced, making Klaus nearly snarl, but he then refuted: "However, there is something more to this story." He fixed his former lover with no-nonsense look. "Is there, Katerina? It would be helpful to know what we're heading into before finding her, considering what a state she seems to have worked herself into."

The doppelgänger looked nervous - rightfully so. She squirmed slightly where she stood, and it appeared to cost her no insubstantial amount of effort to maintain Elijah's impermeable gaze. "Um, well, about that . . ."

Katerina offered a cliff-notes version of what Grace had been forced to bear witness to, and any residual thoughts of shouting at her for running away melted into a foreign feeling of empathy for the poor girl. Sometimes he forgot she was only eight years old. Learning that her father traded her life for hers, and would have died a week after Stefan did end his life, was a blow. And then, there was the fact that he didn't tell her. Knowing Grace, she would take that as the ultimate betrayal - and, it seemed, she had.

But Klaus also gained a newfound respect for Ray Sutton. Yes, he had dabbled in areas of sorcery that he did not belong in, but he also did it to save Grace. He sacrificed himself for her, selflessly. It was because of him that she was stronger than an average werewolf, and even alive in the first place - likely the first living child werewolf.

Klaus did not earnestly thank others. It was not in his nature to be appreciative of other people. Art and music? Of course. People? Hardly. But he found himself wholeheartedly thanking the spirit of Ray Sutton for keeping that little girl alive, no matter what it took, because it was due to him that Klaus had her now. He could only love her now because Ray Sutton gave his life for it, and he was truly grateful.

Klaus vowed to keep her safe and protected and loved for as long as he lived, in Ray Sutton's memory, because in the grand scheme of things, it was the least he could do for a father who loved his daughter more than life itself.

"Poor little love," Rebekah gasped once the doppelgänger finished her story. "Hasn't she been through enough?"

"We must find her," Elijah announced, as if they didn't already know that. "Who knows what she will do now?"

Klaus took the reins from his elder brother. "Each of you take a direction and search as quickly as you can." He gave the Salvatore and doppelgänger a cursory once-over. He was tempted to kill them and be done with it, but he supposed he could make them useful. "You join them. I will track her scent more thoroughly, and if I find a hint, I'll call you. If you find her first, call me. Understood?" He was met with an ocean of nods. "Then go."

Each vampire sped off in a different direction, and Klaus let his eyelids flutter shut, inhaling deeply. A cornucopia of scents flooded his nostrils, and with slight difficulty, he attempted to locate hers. The harsh stench of smoke overwhelmed him at first, and then, the distant tang of alcohol - tequila, perhaps? He still found it hard to believe that she would set her father's room on fire _still inside of it_. And, despite his nagging sympathy for the child, he was still tempted to give her a solid piece of his mind.

But then he caught it. A whiff of a canine-esque scent. Werewolf. _Grace._ His legs propelling him forward, he zeroed in on the faint scent trail she left behind, allowing his own wolf side to take over. His wolf itched beneath his skin and howled and yearned to claw free, to save and protect his cub. _Stay down,_ he snarled inwardly.

 _Find her,_ it growled back. _Find her, find her, find her_ -

"I intend to!" he snapped out loud, momentarily distracted. Frustrated at himself, he caught the scent once more, and let it wash over him, embrace him, guide him. . . . His feet carried him along through the trees, and there was a tugging in his chest that grew in intensity and accuracy, that led him forward, forward, forward -

His cell phone rang, and he pressed to his ear without glancing at the Caller I.D., eager for any and all information. Did they find her? Was she safe? He ached to see her again, to have her in his arms, to shield her from the harsh realities of her world and create an impossible fantasy for her, where she knew nothing but happiness and love and warmth. "Yes?" he said quietly, every inch of his body screaming for the little wolf cub to return to him.

"I cannot BELIEVE you didn't tell me Grace ran away!" the voice shrieked without preamble, and all of the hopes he had gathered and clung to dissipated into icy disappointment. It wasn't news on Grace. No, it was - "Klaus, I heard from Damon. _Damon._ Would you want Damon freaking Salvatore to tell you news like that? No, you wouldn't, because Damon is terrible and the last person who should tell anyone _anything_ -"

Frustrated yet again, Klaus let a only tiny fraction of his attention wander to the furious blonde bombshell on the other end of the call, focusing most of his energies on relocating Grace's scent. "Caroline -"

"Do you have any idea how _worried_ I am?" She hesitated then, as if realizing her obvious mistake. "Well, yeah, you would." There was a moment of silence where Klaus pinpointed the scent to a fern leaf and continued on eastward. "Have you found her yet, Klaus?" Her tone was strained. "Is she okay?"

"We're looking for her now," he said shortly. The only reason he didn't hang up on her now was because - well. She was _Caroline._ And Caroline, apart from whatever she was to him (now was _not_ the time to figure it out), cared for Grace. In fact, she was the only person outside of his family to give a damn about her, and it was much more than a _damn._

"I'll join you," the vixen said with staunch determination. "Give me the address, and I'll vamp-speed up there, and -"

"Love," he interrupted, gentler than before. "As much as I would like to imagine you struggling with your little GPS on your phone, we have more than enough vampires on the case, and every one of them many times your age." He did appreciate the notion, though, and the immediacy in which she'd suggested it.

"What can I do, then?" she demanded, her tone riddled with anxiety and nervous energy.

"I will contact you when we find her, and if there is anything than you can do then, I'll let you know." She breathed out a tense sigh, evidently not pleased with his ruling. But she refrained from saying so aloud in a rare display of self-control. "Thank you, Caroline," he said as an afterthought, but he really did mean it.

"For what?"

"For caring about her." He could almost hear her smile through the phone. "Goodbye, love." With that, he hung up, somehow in slightly higher spirits now. He would find Grace, doubtless, and when they returned home together, Caroline would be waiting for them. It was quite an appealing thought, the image of the beautiful blonde vampire with sparkling blue eyes and a blinding smile standing before him, her slender but soft arms circling around little Grace in a show of nurture and affection, and then she would peer up at him over the little girl's shoulder, and her eyes would darken, but a little smirk would still toy at her supple pink lips -

There would be enough time for that later. Now, he had a job to do. Grace was the object of most of his affections, and he had to put her first.

This time, he went faster than before, catching the scent again easily and following closely. The further he delved into the forest, then, the stronger it became. Gracie was a werewolf and had supernatural speed, but vampires were faster - and he was an _Original_ , for God's sake. It shouldn't be too difficult to find an impulsive, errant eight-year-old child. Because while she was highly intelligent for her age and had a streak of cunning and manipulation, she wasn't in her right mind, and hadn't put in much effort in throwing anyone off her trail. She probably assumed nobody would go after her, after she set the Salvatore on fire. More likely than not, she thought nobody would want to.

The girl had abandonment issues, that much was clear. What with her father's untimely death - and the newfound fact that he would have died anyway - and her mother's exodus, he was surprised she managed to trust any of them. Klaus didn't know much about her mother, but he despised her for breaking Gracie's heart. He had a sneaking suspicion that her leaving was somehow tied to Gracie murdering her uncle - which he didn't quite understand either - but he never pressed the issue, because whenever he even broached the subject, she clammed up.

She wouldn't need to worry about being abandoned again. Despite the odds, she had wormed her way _permanently_ into Klaus's cold, dead heart, and he would never leave her behind. Rebekah was smitten with the child, and Finn was on the same track. Elijah was a hard one to read, but he was obviously fond of her, and even Kol, who complained about her the most, could have complained more.

When he found her again, they would never let her go. He wouldn't fail her like he failed Marcel. Perhaps he couldn't save his son, but he could save his daughter. And that's what he would do.

The scent became stronger still, and a flare of excitement sparked up in his chest. He was closer. He would find her. There was another smell, then, intertwined with it - Finn's. He furrowed his brow. Had Finn found her and not said anything? If so, his dullard of a brother would find a dagger in his heart. A whiff of something canine and filthy drifted over as well, but it wasn't Grace - it smelled like a dog. He drew in another breath, confused. A dog? What had he missed?

Blurring forward, now hot on the trail, he entered a clearing of trees and his heart stopped for a moment. Finn was there, sitting down with a solemn expression, but he looked up as if he had been waiting for him this whole time. There was a dirty mongrel, too - honestly, how had that happened? - but that wasn't what caught his gaze and sent a momentous tsunami of relief crashing through him. " _Gracie._ "

She was there. She was worse for wear, with blood on her face, clothes caked dry with the remnants of mud, various twigs caught in her waist-length billows of golden hair, and reeking of smoke. Her ocean-blue eyes were rimmed with red; she had been crying hard, and for a long time. At the sight of him, another layer of tears coated her eyes, which made her already startling eyes take on a brilliant, magnified hue. "Klaus?" Her voice was small, and trembling.

Klaus wasn't certain which one of them moved first, but all he knew was that half a second later, he had her gathered up tightly in his arms, and she sobbed helplessly against his shoulder. His wolf howled in content as he blanketed her with protection and comfort and love, and the feel of the little girl - his little girl - tucked safely away in his arms sent true happiness thrumming through his veins. "I'm here," he murmured into her hair, rubbing her back soothingly as she wept and wept. "You're safe now."

* * *

 **Fifteen Minutes Earlier**

 **Grace's Perspective**

Even as I fled for what felt like my life, guilt and sorrow weighed me down. I didn't even think before I doused Stefan with liquor and threw the lighter at him. He'd been kind to me all day, and I set him on fire. A recurring thought picked at the forefront of my mind. What if he was dead? What if I killed him? He was kind of annoying sometimes, but he didn't deserve _that_.

I could never go back to Mystic Falls, then. And then there was another struggle of mine. Did I even want to go back? And even if I did, did they want me back? I abandoned them; I ran away from home.

Home. Was that was it was to me now? Home with a coven of murderous and occasionally petty thousand-year-old vampires? Before this morning, before I found out they were all lying to me, Klaus had been my home. Despite all of his flaws, I had been by his side _constantly_ for the past month and a half, and it seemed like he paid me more attention than Daddy had in double or triple the time.

Daddy. Even the thought of him tugged a strangled growl of rage from my throat. I couldn't think about him. Not anymore. But even as I told myself that, I started putting all the pieces together. He had been increasingly distant the last year or so, and I always assumed it was because I made Mama leave. But no, he'd been keeping the most important secret in the world from me, and so he'd became a little colder. A little more hesitant. It all made sense now, and I _hated_ it.

I had to stop thinking about them - _all_ of them. I was on my own now, whether I liked it or not. There was no going home now, even if they _did_ want me back. Daddy had wanted to prepare me for a life on my own, didn't he? I'd give him what he wanted.

A thousand different plans warred for each other in my brain, and none were all that appealing. I could leave the country - if I managed to sneak onto a plane, but I only spoke English and I wasn't sure where to _go._ They spoke English in Britain, but did I really want to live out my days with people who sounded just like the Mikaelsons? It would hurt too much, so that wasn't an option. There was Australia, I supposed, but the thought of being murdered by a kangaroo or a koala bear or a huge goddamn spider wasn't too inviting. Where else did they speak English? I racked my mind for answers. Man, at times like these, I wish I was more cultured.

So, America it was. But where? I could find a nice isolated southern family to take me in, maybe. But who would accept a little girl who also happened to be a vicious werewolf in their midst? It wouldn't happen, and it's not like I could sneak off every full moon without them noticing. Also, who would want me the other twenty-nine to thirty days of the month? Klaus put up with me, but he was his own brand of obnoxious.

I could live on the streets in some big city in the North, and survive off of scraps until I was eighteen and could do whatever I wanted. But how long could I go without anybody noticing me, either as a homeless kid or a werewolf, and turning me in? And if Klaus still wanted me, then he would find me in a heartbeat if the _government_ knew about me.

A more unforgiving thought occurred to me then. I could try to find Mama. Maybe she'd forgive me for killing her little brother, but then again, I wasn't so sure I forgave her for stabbing me and abandoning me, so that wouldn't be a very happy arrangement. And what if she didn't forgive me? What if she tried to kill me all over again, and succeeded?

Screw all that. My only option left was living in the forests with the wilderness for the rest of my life. If I was lucky, I could find a werewolf pack. If I wasn't lucky, which was a lot more likely, then at least I'd have a bunch of rabbits and foxes and little birdies to keep me company. I could migrate to the Amazon rainforest, and learn to survive alongside tigers and huge-ass snakes and poisonous frogs, if they didn't kill me first. That could be fun. I'd be all tough and learn all about different animals and the laws of nature and crap. I'd be just like Steve Irwin, except not Australian and not an adult man and not impaled by a stingray. It was perfect!

Or, at least, it was perfect, until I entered a clearing in the forest, tripped over something large and furry, and went hurtling into the nearest tree. I squawked in outrage, and then genuine pain as I crashed against the tree trunk, the rough material scraping up my face and smearing blood down my cheek. "Son of a _bitch_!" I moaned, reaching for my pillowcase, which was flung into a nearby bush.

There was a loud, ferocious growl, and I turned my face into the snarling muzzle of a big, filthy, furious dog, and then - "Rudy!" I squealed, beside myself in joy at the sight of the husky I'd come to adore when I lived with Keisha and Samara. They had brought him home one day when I was still moping over Mama, and plopped a squirming, hyperactive puppy in my lap to cheer me up. It worked.

His bared teeth and curled upper lip relaxed, and he rewarded me with a hearty sniff, his tail beginning to wag back and forth. He recognized me, too. " _Rudy_ ," I repeated, thrilled, flinging my arms around his mangy coat. "Where've you been, boy? Have you been living out here in the woods all this time?"

He was thinner than before, his ribs showing beneath his tangled fur, and he was caked in dirt and leaves. I thought everyone who I lived with in that house was dead, and the fact that there was one still alive - even if it was only the dog - brought me to the edge of tears. "I missed you, boy," I said, scratching him behind the ears, and he peered up at me with those soulful, icy blue eyes of his. "I'm all you have left, huh?" My throat almost caught at the words. "Your owners are all dead." He only continued to wag his tail, not understanding, and my heart fractured. "You're all I have left too now." My vision blurred over and hot tears rolled down my cheeks. It was true. All I had now was a pillowcase full of memories, a broken heart, and a starving dog.

Rudy stepped forward and licked my tears away. It was a thoughtful gesture, but his breath was rancid and smelled faintly of rabbits and he was a little disgusting all around, but it managed to draw a giggle out of me. "Aw, _gross_!"

"Grace?"

I couldn't help myself: I screamed. Only a little bit, though. I'd been so focused on reuniting with Rudy that I hadn't heard anyone approach. Rudy, in an effort to protect me, stalked forward with his haunches raised, snarling again. Still startled out my mind, I clasped my fingers into the thick, matted fur on his shoulders and drew him backwards. "Back, boy, I've got this."

Before me stood no other than Finn Mikaelson, donning a sympathetic, gentle countenance. His hands were raised in a placating pose and his stance was nonthreatening. There were weary lines etched into his face, his clothes were ripped and bloodied, and he looked generally exhausted. As much as I wanted to book it and run, I supposed if I were to bump into any of them, he would be the most easygoing. ". . . Finn."

Finn took one step forward, and I matched him, hopping backwards over a tree root and maintaining the same distance between us. His expression turned stricken. "Grace, I am not going to hurt you."

I knew that. Really, I did, but if he got too close, he could snatch me up and take me back. I couldn't let that happen, so I chose to pretend that's the reason I cowered away from him. "Leave me alone." I looped a finger into Rudy's worn collar, prepared to scoop him up and make a break for it.

Then, my mind caught up to my mouth, and I rewound his entrance in my head. How did he know where I was, anyway? Katherine or Stefan must've tipped one of them, but _when_? "Wait, why are you here?"

Finn smiled faintly, although it didn't meet his eyes. "The doppelgänger called Klaus on his cellular device. We have all been searching for you." What a little _bitch_ \- oh, wait. That meant that - that Klaus was here. He was _here_.

I wasn't sure how that made me feel. I was a little nervous, of course - more than a little, really. If he managed to find me, then I didn't want to imagine how mad he'd be. What if he hit me again? I didn't _think_ he would, but then again, I'd never run away before either, so I wasn't too sure what to expect from him.

But it wasn't just that. He _cared_. All the worrying I'd done over him not giving a crap whether I stayed or left, or whether he'd be too betrayed to look for me, all spiraled down the drain. He did love me. Even if I disobeyed him, as I so often did, he still loved me.

They were _all_ here. I was genuinely touched that they were trying to find me - really, I was - but it wasn't enough to convince me to go back. My mind was set. I swallowed a pang of regret. "You'll have to tell 'em to stop searching, then, 'cause I'm not coming back, so there." His face fell, and I felt a little bad, but I didn't retract a single thing.

His brown eyes were soft and understanding and made me shift my weight from foot to foot, uncomfortable. "The doppelgänger told us what you discovered about your father." Did that freaking blabbermouth keep _anything_ to herself? Remind me not to tell her any governmental secrets if I get my hands on them. The nuclear launch codes would be all over Twitter. "I'm very sorry, Grace. I know that must have been extremely difficult to hear."

"Extremely difficult" didn't even cover half of it. I hardened at his unhelpful, frustrating empathy. "Yeah, well, he's dead, so it's not like I can get mad at him over it." That wasn't true. I was _furious_ with him, but that didn't make me feel any less guilty over it.

Finn stepped forward again, and this time, I didn't have the urge to back off again. "You're allowed to be angry with someone who's no longer alive," he said softly. A shadow flickered across his features, and his eyes shaded over. "You see, I'm still angry with my father, and although I only recently found out that Klaus killed him, it does not change my animosity towards him."

My instincts warned me to flee before the others caught up with me, but my curiosity won out. "Because he hurt Klaus." It wasn't a question, but it wasn't an accusation either. Sure, they hadn't done anything to protect Klaus when he was a kid, but they were kids too.

Finn nodded stiffly, then amended: "And because he hunted us down like dogs." At the mention of the word "dog," Rudy wagged his tail then, as if to say 'Yes, I am one of those, I know words!' Finn cracked a pained half smile, and I rubbed the pupper on the head.

This was the first time I'd ever heard one of the Mikaelson siblings besides Klaus mention their father, positively or negatively. Klaus had loathed him with every fiber of his being, but I hadn't really considered what the rest of them thought, since Klaus had said that he was the only one who was beaten as a kid. Just because the rest of them weren't physically abused didn't mean they wouldn't hate Mikael, though, if not for Klaus's sake then because he had to have been a terror to live with.

I didn't know what to say, so I changed the subject. "It was nice seeing you," it honestly was, I wasn't even lying, "but I haveta go now."

Finn's brow creased in concern, and he lowered himself onto a mossy log in the middle of the clearing. He patted the spot next to him, but I didn't budge an inch. He sighed. "Why must you leave, child?" he asked evenly.

I squirmed. "I can't go back."

He continued to speak in the same calm, leveled voice. "And why is that?"

Now he wanted me to _explain_ myself? I didn't have a logical explanation! What was I supposed to say, that my heart led me away? Because it didn't. My heart begged me to return to Klaus. Was I supposed to tell him that my gut warned me against staying? Because my gut was telling me that I couldn't survive too well on my own. As entertaining as the Amazon rainforest sounded, I would probably die within the first thirty minutes, and anyway, now I had Rudy to think about. Then why _was_ I doing this?

Oh yeah, because I was mad. "You're all liars!" I shouted, an abrupt surge of bitterness setting me on edge. Finn didn't even outwardly react to my words. I was hoping to startle him or even scare him a little, but all he did was sit there and gaze at me with that sincere, solemn look of his. This wasn't fun at all. He was supposed to yell back! Klaus would yell back. "You all lied to me about everything, and I can't live with a bunch of liars!"

Finn waited for me to finish shouting at him before he retorted quietly, "We were trying to protect you, Grace."

I blinked back furious tears. Why did _everyone_ say that to me? Even Daddy. All they wanted to do was protect me, and yet here I was, standing in a forest with a ruined life and an aching heart because I found out the cold, mean, awful truth. Some job at protecting me they did. Now that I knew the truth and was officially _un_ protected, I found myself a little less than sympathetic towards his reasoning. "Well, I'm leaving to protect myself because all of you did such a shitty job at it!"

I waited for him to chide my language, as Elijah would have, but he didn't, something I was more than grateful for. "I'm sorry you are hurting so badly, Grace," he said knowingly, with that weird perceptiveness of his. He cut straight through me. He saw through my petty anger and outrage right to the throbbing core of pain beneath. "That was never our intention."

When he put it like that, I felt like a crappy person who couldn't forgive others for making mistakes while I turned around and screwed everything up _all the time_. Was I being too hard on them? I didn't know. I didn't understand how to fix this. Everything was so _broken_ and _mangled_ and it was all my fault. Esther was right. I was tearing their family apart.

"I wish I was dead," I said suddenly, the terrible thought overtaking me with all of its vileness and and self-loathing and _truth_. This time, Finn did react, bending over slightly at the torso as if he'd just been sucker-punched in the stomach, deep and ancient sadness flooding into his pitying expression. Rudy whimpered beside me, as if even he grasped the horror of what I'd just uttered.

It _was_ sort of true, though. I had nowhere to go. Not really. Nobody that wanted me. Even if the rest of the Mikaelsons were searching for me, I knew what they really thought. They thought I was a burden. A stray that Klaus forced into their lives. And then there was Klaus himself. Maybe he didn't love me as much as I thought he did. Maybe he really _did_ find me insufferable, and he was glad I finally left.

I awaited all of Finn's trite comforts, the ones adults pulled out of their asses in a worthless effort to make kids feel better about themselves. The whole 'I don't know why you think that, because it isn't true' or the 'Of course we want you, why would you think otherwise?' or even the 'We will never stop loving you.' _Bullshit_. Mama used to say that when I was little, and I was pretty damn sure _she_ stopped loving me. It was only a matter of time before Klaus followed suit.

But I underestimated Finn. Rather than attempting to patronize me, he only murmured, "I understand, Grace. I used to wish I was dead, too."

I had to do a double take. _What?_ That wasn't what I was expecting at all. Morbidly curious and seeking some sort of kindredness, I shuffled over to his place on the log, lowering myself beside him. Rudy hurried after me, sniffing and digging his nose into my rib cage, which was his odd attempt to make me feel better. It didn't help much. "Why did you wish you were dead?" I asked quietly.

He stared straight ahead, and he looked haunted - by my question, by the past, I didn't know. "I never wished to be a vampire," he eventually replied, his huskier voice tipping me off to the fact that this was a sore subject for him. "I was furious with my mother for turning us into such wretched monsters, and I hated myself for what I was. The bloodlust, the immortality, _all_ of it. For the next century, before I was daggered, I attempted in vain to end my life."

His casual statement about trying to kill himself drove the breath from my lungs. Hesitantly, carefully, I reached for his hand and wound my fingers with his. He peered down at me sideways, and I was rewarded with a thin but genuine smile. "No matter what I did, I couldn't die. I had no access to any White Oak. My siblings ridiculed me for wanting to end my pathetic existence." My chest tightened in anger on his behalf. No wonder he hated them all. "And perhaps they had a right to." Uh, no they didn't! They should've been helping him through it, not mocking him for it! "I judged them harshly and constantly, and soon enough, their wells of sympathy ran dry. They didn't understand why I couldn't accept what I was . . ." He trailed off, forlorn.

"You didn't deserve that," I insisted, and then took note of his use of past tense. "What changed?"

He smiled again, but this time, it was fonder. "I met a woman. Her name was Sage. She was wonderful. I loved her, and I no longer wanted to end my life." His smile faded into a grimace. "And then I was daggered, and that small snippet of happiness was stolen from me."

"Is she dead?" I couldn't help but ask. If Klaus killed her . . .

"I do not know." He lifted his shoulders into an elegant, old-worldly shrug, and it struck me how similar he was to Elijah in some ways. "My love blinded me, and I turned her into a vampire, against my morals. That was over nine hundred years ago."

"Then maybe she's alive." It would be nice for her to come back, I thought, and make Finn happy again. He deserved to be happy more than almost anyone else I knew. "Maybe she's out there right now, and she's looking for you."

The corners of lips quirked up in what was not quite a smile, but revealed a spark of hope. "That would be very much like her." Then, he turned back to me, and somberness replaced his brief flicker of warm recollection. "You see, child, I understand better than you know the feeling of wanting to no longer exist in this world, and I don't want that for you."

The sheer force of emotions threaded in his tone brought a sob bubbling to my lips. It was so hard to be angry still. It was just so _hard_. His hand squeezed around mine, and I leaned my head against his shoulder, trying to maintain composure. "She was my guiding light," he told me. "The reason I put one foot in front of the other. I'll be yours, if you like. I never want you to feel as low as I did in the first century of my life."

Screw composure. I began to cry into the material of his jacket, and he removed his grip on my hand only to wind his arm around my bony shoulders. "H-How can you want me to come back?" I demanded, my voice wavering. "Th-they were horrible to you! Y-you want me to g-go back to them, b-but you _hate_ them."

"I do not hate them, Grace," he said, and he sounded so earnest that I had to believe him. "I never did. There were times, I'll admit, when I did not recognize them after we were turned into vampires, and I will always hate that they left me in a coffin for nine hundred years, but I do not hate them. They are my family, and they've grown with your presence." I shook my head against his shoulder, wordless, but he continued firmly, "Yes, it's true. There is no doubt about it: Klaus was a monster, but around you, he's recovering some essence of his humanity. Rebekah was selfish and childish, but she loves you more than she loves herself. Elijah is softening, and even Kol is putting his cruelty aside, if only minutely. For the first time in a very long time, they are acting as they did when they were human."

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe him so badly. But there was the constant doubt that ate away at me that prevented me from doing so. "They must hate me now," I mumbled, peeling my face away from his jacket only to bury it in my filthy, folded hands.

"Why would they hate you?" he questioned, sounding a little bewildered.

All the nasty, poisonous emotions I'd been clinging onto for the entire day burst wide open, and I unloaded them onto him, scurrying away from the log only to face him with my misplaced venom. "Because! Because, because, _because_! Because I told everyone that Klaus hit me and made everyone mad at him and I ran away from home and I set Stefan on fire and Esther told me that I'm tearing this family apart and -"

"Wait!" Finn held his hands up for me to pause, and I did, sucking in rapid and uneven breaths. Apparently, he only heard the last part. "My mother said that to you?"

I could only nod. "Grace, that isn't true." Sniffling, I shrugged off his denial, and a little steel molded into the kind brown of his eyes as he willed me to believe him. "Listen to me, child, and listen well. What she said to you was _not true_. I will have words with her." From his expression, those words did not sound pleasant. "Let me handle my mother. She's a little . . . unstable right now, as you know." He was talking about how I eavesdropped on her all but threatening to hurt the Mikaelsons. Yeah, she was more than a _little unstable_ , but somehow, it was still hard to erase her brutal judgement. "I will dissuade her from the path she seems determined to tread upon, because as I told you, I will not let anything bad happen. But you must know: what she told you was a disgusting lie. You are the force that is bringing this family _together_ , not apart."

It seemed like all they did was argue and fight with each other around me. How could I be bringing them together? It didn't make any sense, even though it was a welcoming thought. I was about to protest when Finn tilted his head to the side, lifting a single finger in the air. After a moment, he said under his breath, "Klaus is close." My heart skipped a beat, and nearly thundered to a stop. I had to go, I had to go, _I had to go_ \- "Don't run, Grace," he almost seemed to plead with me. "Let him come. No matter how valiantly you try to hide it, I see that you miss him."

I did miss him, no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise. I wanted Klaus. I needed Klaus. I couldn't run anymore, not when I lost so much already. If I lost him too . . . I couldn't lose him. It would destroy what was left of me. Losing Daddy was agonizing enough, but I didn't think I could stomach losing _another_ father. It would kill me.

And so, when Klaus appeared at the edge of the clearing, I didn't run away. His clothes were torn and bloody, but he was here. His eyes widened at the sight of me, and my limbs might as well have melted into goo. He was here. I'd only last seen him this morning, but it felt like a whole lifetime had come and gone. " _Gracie_ ," he whispered.

He was here. He was here. _He was here_. "Klaus?" Distantly, I felt myself move forward, but he was faster, and before I had a chance to even blink he had me wrapped up in a crushing embrace. As his arms circled around me, the world disappeared. He was here.

Any residual clutch I had to tie my emotions up snapped into two, and I sobbed into his shirt, harder than I had in a long, long time. It was like a dam had been released. The last time I'd cried so hard was after I saw Daddy's body. It was relief and grief and guilt all rolled into one package of conflict. "I'm here," he said, but it sounded far away and distorted, like I was floating beneath a swimming pool and he was speaking to me from above. His hand rubbed my back in comforting patterns. "You're safe now."

I grasped fistfuls of his shirt in some vain attempt to soothe my nerves, but it was too late for that. He was here, so I could calm down now, right? Wrong. If anything, his presence strengthened my hysteria, and I held onto him for dear life, as if I would drift away if I dared let go. "Call Elijah and tell him she's found," said Klaus, the vibrations of his voice tickling me through his chest. "And then tell them to back off. Including Rebekah - no, _especially_ Rebekah."

There was a _whooshing_ sound, and Klaus focused all of his attentions on me. "Shh, shh, shh. You're okay now." Inconsolable, I continued to sob so violently I gagged and coughed. "Sweetheart, you're going to make yourself sick." There was a gentle movement, and I felt myself being lowered. Frantic, I wound my arms around his neck like a spider monkey and refused to be put down. It turns out, Klaus was only sitting down on the log where Finn had been not moments before, settling me down on his lap. I lurched forward to duck my face into his shoulder again, but he put his hands around my upper arms to lock me into place. His sharp blue eyes were brimming with concern. "Gracie, everything's all right now. . . ."

In a state beyond words, all I could do was whip my head from side to side and bawl. After a moment of trepidation, he tugged me into his embrace again. "Shhh." If I were in a healthier frame of mind, I would've warned him to shut his stupid hybrid mouth for telling me to hush up, but I couldn't even do _that_ right now. "I'm here."

"D-Don't l-leave m-me," I blubbered, now desperate to _keep_ him here. "I-I'm s-sorry, don't l-leave me, I'm s-sorry -"

He nudged my chin up with his knuckles, willing me to meet his no-nonsense gaze. "I'm not leaving you, sweetheart. I will never leave you. I promise you that."

If the dam had cracked, then this crushed the rest of it into rubble and ash. My cries only grew in intensity, and my stomach churned, knotted and nauseous and twisted. Before I knew what was happening, I was lowered down onto the forest floor, my head being guided in between my knees. "You have to calm down, Gracie," Klaus said, and even in my fit of hysteria, I could hear the clear note of worry in his voice. He caressed the back of my head, his nimble fingers beginning to untangle the various knots in my hair. "Take deep breaths, sweetheart. Count to ten in your head, if you must. _Breathe_."

I attempted to listen to his directions. _One, inhale. Two, exhale. Three, inhale. Four, exhale._ My breaths were ragged and shallow. _Five, inhale. Six, exhale. Seven, inhale._ "That's it, sweetheart, you're doing it." _Eight, exhale. Nine, inhale. Ten, exhale_. "You're going to be fine."

I wasn't sure how long I sat there on the dirt and twigs with my head between my knees and Klaus rubbing my back. It could've been a minute, or ten, or an hour. But, eventually, as time strode on with its cool indifference, my breathing evened out, my heart rate slowed, and my tears dried on my cheeks. I felt exhausted, though, worn to the bone. All I wanted to do was hide away in Klaus's arms and sleep the world away, forever and ever and ever.

Klaus finally seemed to notice the dog beside me, who had been staring at me, frightened, with his tail hanging limp between his legs. "Who is this?" he questioned.

I stuck out my hand, and Rudy gladly accepted the invitation, sitting next to me with a lolling tongue. "This is Rudy. He was our dog. He's mine now."

Klaus froze. "Erm . . ."

"You and Stefan killed his owners," I reminded him, but there was no fire behind my words. It was bland and factual. I was too tired to be angry anymore. "I'm all he has left. He's mine." Klaus nodded then; it seemed that he was choosing his battles. Then, it hit me. "I guess it doesn't matter that you killed my daddy. He would've died anyway," I said darkly.

His hand curled around my shoulder, and he sighed. "Gracie, you shouldn't be angry with your father -"

I didn't even get a chance to marvel at how he was genuinely _defending_ him when he probably viewed his memory as a threat before I shut him down cold. "I don't wanna talk about it."

He gripped my chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted my face over to him, where I observed with a little discomfort that his expression had hardened considerably since he solaced me not five minutes before. "No? Then let's talk about the fact that you doused his bedroom in alcohol and set his room on fire _while you were still inside_."

Did Katherine divulge all of my life secrets or something? I made moves to scoot away from him, but his hand tightened, and I was rendered immobile. "I don't wanna talk about that either."

"I don't care if you don't want to talk about it, because we're going to talk about it." Should I have started crying again? Would that've made him stop grilling me? I wanted him to go back to hugging me. This wasn't fun at all. As I considered my options, he continued coolly, "You could have been killed. Burned alive. In what universe did you think it was a good idea to do something so _stupid_?"

"I was mad," I said lamely. When he put it like that, though, burning alive didn't sound like a real walk in the park. Maybe I should've thought that one through a little better. But I _had_ been mad. So, so mad. I wasn't thinking clearly in the slightest. "You do stupid things when you're mad, too. You're just as bad as me. No, you're _worse._ "

So, maybe it _also_ wasn't a good idea to turn the tables on him, because he clenched his jaw all tight and looked like he wanted to toss me down a ravine. "No, I do _bad_ things when I'm mad, not stupid things. And this isn't about me, it's about _you_. I'm immortal and invulnerable. You are not." His voice raised in volume and intensity. "You are an eight-year-old child who puts herself into dangerous situations like running away from home and standing in the midst of a fire because you're headstrong and stubborn and blind to threats to your safety!"

Rudy growled at him, hackles raised, on my behalf, and as the hybrid was momentarily distracted, I ripped myself out of his hold and stomped to the other end of the clearing. I was _this_ close to tossing myself onto the ground and throwing the tantrum of a lifetime. This sucked! I wanted him to hug me again. "I don't wanna come back if all you're gonna do is yell at me!" I, ironically, yelled back.

That was not the right move. Clearly, I underestimated how wound up he was after hours and hours of fighting with his siblings and then the period of panic when he realized I was gone. In hindsight, it made sense that he was so short-tempered, because he had been afraid, and Klaus Mikaelson didn't react well to being afraid. When he was afraid, he got angry. When he was sad, he got angry. When he was hurting, he got angry. And after the day from hell, he'd been all three. So he was _really_ angry.

Klaus hovered over me in half a second, and I shrunk into my skin, a little intimidated. "You know, Kol has a point," he snapped, and I balked at that. Kol had a point about _what_? He was trash-talking me up the wazoo. He had no point! Had Klaus actually _listened_ to all the crap he was spewing? "You _are_ a brat. You talk back to your elders, you disobey your elders, and you will do anything and everything to get what you want."

I leaned away from him, stung. Is that really what he thought of me? I knew I wasn't a perfect angel or anything but I didn't exactly _choose_ to live with him, so I figured he could damn well suck it up. But apparently he was fed up. Well, um, so was I! "Then why do you want me to come back?" I shouted in his face, ignoring his unsaid warning to watch myself. "Why do you even want me to come home if you think I'm such a _brat_?"

"Because you're _my_ brat!" he roared, and then there was silence. I could only stare up at him, slack-jawed, torn between bursting into laughter and bursting into tears because as tough as I was - and I was goddamn tough - he was awfully frightening when he yelled. Klaus, seeming to acknowledge my fearful pose, visibly worked to calm himself down. "I'm sorry for scaring you," he said, and that must've took everything in him to force out. Klaus didn't apologize. Like, ever. He thought he was right _all the time_. "That was not my intention."

Uh. I couldn't help but be a little skeptical. What a liar. "Yeah, it was," I retorted. He was mad at me. Furious, even. Of course he wanted to scare me. Scare me straight, maybe, but scare me all the same.

A vein in his forehead bulged, and for a second, I thought it was going to explode out of his head. That would be a real mess. "Must you _always_ argue with me -" Cutting himself off, he drew in a long breath. "I have never come across a person who has the capability to infuriate me as much as you do, and I have Rebekah and Kol as siblings."

"Thanks," I said sarcastically. Was that meant to be an insult or a compliment?

"Let me finish. What I'm trying to say is -" I wasn't aware this was going to be one of his famous monologues. Even Shakespeare would tell this guy to shut up. As he droned on, scolding me half the time for being "pigheaded and stupid" about putting myself in danger, I tuned out. How did Shakespeare die, anyhow? I wondered if Klaus killed him, or Kol. Wasn't Shakespeare gay? Or bisexual or something? Did he even exist? What if it was, like, Elijah all along? I wouldn't put it past him. He liked his books. Although Shakespeare didn't write books, he wrote plays. Did Elijah write, or did he only read? He was probably a good writer. Not as good as Shakespeare, though - unless he _was_ Shakespeare. I thought about asking him, even though that was a weird kind of question to ask. 'Are you Shakespeare?' If he was, then did that mean I could get Shakespeare's autograph? Samara read to me little snippets from _Romeo and Juliet_ before bed. Both of them - Romeo and Juliet - were dumb. Their love story ended up with, like, six people dead. And it wasn't love, anyhow. You can't love someone you've just met. I spent every waking moment with Klaus for a month and a half and I only started loving him at the end. What if _Klaus_ was Shakespeare? "- what's best for you. Are you even listening to me?"

I paused like a deer in headlights, sort of like Klaus did when I told him that I was keeping Rudy. ". . . Yes."

He had a magnificent scowl on his face. "What was the last thing I said?"

Aw, crap. "You want what's best for me?" I tried.

His scowl didn't waver. "Before that." I only shrugged, and he looked about two seconds away from removing my head from my shoulders like Marie Antoinette. He sighed then, evidently choosing _not_ to behead me. "Look, Grace." He kneeled down to my level. "I know I haven't said this aloud, but I do love you. When I found your pillowcase missing, I was beside myself. If something had _happened_ to you . . . If Stefan or Katerina had _hurt_ you . . ."

"But I'm okay!" I exclaimed. Well, physically I was okay. Emotionally, I was a wreck. I decided to keep that to myself, even though he had to have had some inkling already that I wasn't in the best state of mind. Setting my house and Stefan on fire, and then sobbing all over Klaus had to have been some sort of warning signs.

Klaus fixed me with one of his _looks_. "Through sheer force of dumb luck. You're lucky to be alive, you little imp."

I wasn't expecting a lecture. Really, I wasn't. Maybe I _was_ stupid, but I didn't imagine him raking me over the coals. I mean, he had to realize a lot of this was his fault, right? Wait - he hadn't even apologized for any of _that_ yet! The main reason I ran away in the first place was because he lied to me the entire time he knew me. So, _that_ was all right, but God forbid I light a match or two or set a vampire on fire!

He was a hypocrite. A big fat hypocrite. Who did he think he was, scolding me? Well, he was a thousand years old and my pseudo-foster father, but you know, other than that! "You can't tell me what to do!" slipped from my lips before I could stop myself.

Klaus recoiled slightly, and his look from earlier was a stroll in the meadows compared to _this_ doozy. I was pretty sure he was ready to eat me alive. " _Excuse_ me?"

". . . Uh, never mind."

He rose back to his feet, and crossed his arms. I realized then why everyone in the entire damn world was so scared of him. At first glance, he wasn't much. He was handsome, sure, very - but he was more wiry and lean than muscular. But his face reminded me why he was so infamous. One well-timed glower from him probably had the average person losing control of their bowels. "I'm beginning to think that Kol's method of punishment is a good idea."

That was random. Kol's method of punishment? What was - _oh._ I remembered when Kol suggested, however mockingly, that I should be spanked. Screw Kol for planting the idea in his head! I didn't even care if he made me good pancakes yesterday morning. This was practically a life or death situation here! My self-preservation should've kicked in, but - "You wouldn't." I didn't mean to say that, either. Should I just glue my mouth closed? I was starting to believe that would be easier on everyone.

Klaus arched a single, challenging brow. "Keep telling me what I can't or wouldn't do, and I will."

 _Abort mission, abort mission, abort mission!_ He was serious. Dead serious. I was treading on dangerous waters here. But all I could think to say was: "That means you're a double liar." A double liar? _Really_? What even _was_ a double liar? And why did I think it was smart to call him that?!

At the very least, it distracted him from the worrisome path he was clobbering down. "What?"

This was good! He was cracking. It was small, and barely noticeable, but if I could just dig my fingers inside and make it wider, then I was in the home stretch. "Why do you think I ran away? 'Cause you lied. And you also promised not to hit me again. So you're lying again, I guess." I internally congratulated myself on the guilt trip. It was some of my finer work.

A muscle in his jaw jumped, but he didn't appear so murderous this time around, so I'd take what I could get. "Grace, I lied to protect you."

I understood that. Honestly, I did. After Finn said essentially the same thing, I genuinely understood where they were coming from. I wasn't _completely_ irrational. But I _also_ needed something to hold over his head, so - "And hitting me is protecting me how?"

Klaus seemed to want to roll his eyes, but then thought better of it. In one swift movement, he scooped me up from underneath my armpits, and I squeaked in surprise as he carried me over to the log. Alarm bells blared in my head. This was it. My life was over. _Butt, it's been an honor serving with you_ -

Instead of turning me over and raining down destruction, he settled me upright on his lap. "Sweetheart, I was never going to do that. I only wanted to threaten you into behaving for once in a damn blue moon." Oh. _Oh_. Relief had me slumping against him, and he sighed again. "That wasn't a lie. I will never hit you again. I'm sorry for doing it before."

Apologizing twice in one conversation? Who was this man, and what had he done with Klaus? Since he was extending an olive branch, I supposed I could toss him a bone. "I'm sorry for telling your siblings." I fingered an obvious blood stain on his shirt. "They hurt you."

Rudy, who had been waiting cautiously at the edge of the clearing, torn between bolting and protecting me, noticed the lull in the conversation, hurried over, and placed his chin down on my thigh. Smiling faintly, I stroked him on the snout. "You told them the truth," Klaus eventually said, watching me as I continued to pet the rambunctious husky. "That isn't your fault. I should have never done it in the first place. And we hurt each other. You shouldn't blame yourself for that. We do that from time to time." When I remained quiet, he retreated back to something I'd said only a little earlier. "I don't regret lying to you about your wolf quirks, though. I didn't want to cause you unnecessary distress."

I kept my gaze glued on Rudy's wagging tail. "Too late."

"I know." He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "I want you to come home, Gracie. I promise, things will be better this time around. You need not fear me. You are a part of this family now, whether you like it or not. We want you to come home. I love you, sweetheart, even when you're an enormous pain in my ass."

That was what I wanted to hear all along - well, besides that last part. Mama left. Daddy died. I needed to belong somewhere. I wanted a real home. I wanted to be cherished and loved. Despite all the nastiness floating around in my head trying to convince me otherwise, I _deserved_ to be loved. "I love you too," I murmured. "Klaus?"

He twirled a strand of my hair around his fingers. "Yes?"

". . . I wanna come home."

 **A/N: Yaaaay, they're buds again! It won't be completely smooth-sailing (c'mon, when do either Klaus or Grace make things easy?) but it's heading in the right direction. Oh, and there's a dog now. Next chapter will have some Klaroline moments and some Klaroline + Grace moments along with Grace reuniting with the rest of the Mikaelsons. I hope you enjoyed this chapter; let me know in the reviews!**


	15. Safety and Secrets

**A/N: This time, it's been _over_ a month. Man, I _really_ suck. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. All I can say is junior year again. It's basically hell. I did score really well on my SAT, though, so yaaaaay! ****AP tests are in about a month, so I'm not sure if I'll be able to update before that or not. I'll try, but I can't make any promises.**

 **I issue a hearty thanks to all of the reads, follows, favorites, and reviews. I love them all, so much, and they always brighten up my day. To PowerHero432, about being more excited to see the Originals react to the dog then see Grace again, I chortled out loud. I actually wrote out the scene with them noticing the dog for the first time with you in mind, so that bit is officially dedicated to you.**

 **I feel like this chapter is a little scattered, but it's also the longest one I've done thus far, so that's cool. There's some angst (it's me, guys, you know how much I love angst) but also a fair bit of humor I attempted to inject in, in the form of Grace's bizarre metaphors/analogies and observations.**

 **Also, KLAROLINE! Yaaaaay! There's a good bit of Klaroline in this chapter, and Klaroline + Grace (I don't know how to combine those names, lol, sorry). The Mikaelsons learn a bit about Grace's past, but not all, 'cause where would the drama be if they learned everything right away?**

 **Also, the Mikaelson ball will begin in the next chapter or one after. I'm fairly confident that's where it will begin to diverge from canon somewhat. Anywhoooooo, now that I'm done rambling, here's the chapter! Please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks so much! :D**

 **Chapter 15: Safety and Secrets**

 **Grace's Perspective**

Klaus gave both me and my pillowcase a piggyback ride through the forest as Rudy trotted cheerfully alongside us. He didn't say so out loud, but he seemed to accept that this dirty, mangy dog was now a fixture in my life - and by default, his life. He _did_ have his owners killed, after all. It was the least he could do.

Klaus and I were on good terms again. We weren't perfect, but we never had been. There was stuff we still needed to talk about - he vowed that as soon as I woke up in the morning, I would be receiving yet another lecture about all the stupid things I did since I wasn't listening the first time - but it didn't weigh down on me anymore. This was where I belonged.

After a few miles, if I squinted hard, I could make out the silhouettes of about six figures, and behind them, a burning house. My stomach turned at the sight of it. _I_ did that. It was all gone now. All I had left of my daddy was a picture, and his eyes. And that was my fault.

Thankfully there weren't any neighbors for miles in either direction, so nobody called the fire department. I wondered how long Samara and Keisha rotted inside before someone found them. Days, maybe, or even weeks. Someone only probably noticed because Samara didn't come to her night class or Keisha didn't turn up at her job at the mall in the city. The thought that only a casual acquaintance would drop by and check up on them made me indescribably sad.

Once we made it closer to the six figures, I could distinguish their defining features. Stefan was one of them; he hadn't burned alive, although he appeared a bit charred. I didn't like him a whole lot, but I _was_ a little relieved. I hadn't wanted to kill him, after everything he did for me. Katherine was still there, looking bored, an expression replicated in Kol. Finn waited patiently, and Elijah maintained a rigid stance, alert and wary as ever, but he was ever so slightly tilted towards Katherine. And then there was Rebekah. There was a vulnerable, childlike air to her. She stood there with her hands wrung together and her shoulders hunched, as if she wanted for someone to offer her solace but nobody did.

Klaus stepped on a twig, crunching it beneath his foot, and all six heads snapped in our direction. I slithered down his back, but before I could even blink, Rebekah hoisted me up into her arms, her embrace almost as tight as Klaus's had been when he first found me. "Oh, my little love," she gasped into my hair, and I breathed in her familiar, lovely aroma. It calmed me more than anything else. "I was so, so frightened." She smacked me lightly on the back of my head with her palm, and before I could protest at the sudden sting, she commanded, " _Never_ do that to me again." Her voice cracked and wavered on the way out, and the protest died in my throat.

"I won't," I mumbled into the warm crook of her neck, snuggling into her. "'M sorry." It hit me then. She loved me too, despite not even knowing me as long as Klaus did. She _loved_ me. She was _terrified_ when she found me gone. I could hear it in her voice. And then I realized I had been taking her for granted. Even if Klaus had his mood swings and lost his temper at the drop of a hat, she would be the comforting, stable source of unconditional love in my life, because no matter what, she would never give up on me. In this hectic, twisted new world of mine, she was my first friend, and in a way, I trusted her most. "I love you, Bekah."

I could feel her smile without even catching a glimpse of it. "I love you too, Gracie."

Another hand rested on my back - a broader, firmer hand. Elijah. At his subtle coaxing, I lifted my head away from the safe haven of Bekah's shoulder. I braced myself, prepared for the scolding of a lifetime, but all I received was a gentle kiss on the forehead. "You worried us all deeply, little one," he said, brushing his fingers against my cheek.

At least he wasn't yelling at me. That was a good sign. "I'm sorry, 'Lijah," I murmured, shortening his name for the first time - a habit I continued ceaselessly therein after. "I didn't mean to make everyone so scared." That wasn't entirely true, because they kinda deserved it. I kept that to myself. Elijah'd probably rip me a new one for saying that to his face.

He nodded understandingly. "I know." A fixture of stone hardened his countenance then, and my fists tightened around Bekah's blouse. Maybe he was going to rip me a new one anyway. "But that doesn't mean you won't be facing consequences." Well, if _that_ didn't sound ominous.

"Oh, lighten up, brother," Kol snorted from behind him, and I almost died of shock then and there. Was _Kol_ seriously defending me? _That_ Kol? The same Kol who hurdled me into a wall the first time he met me and called me a mutt? The same Kol who crashed his Mustang with me in the passenger seat and displayed more concern towards his totaled car, and then blamed me for the accident? The same Kol who cheerily informed his siblings that I was a brat? The same Kol who didn't seem to like me at _all_? I couldn't believe it. "We - and by we I mean Niklaus - were being a right bunch of prats, and frightened the little gazelle off. You can't very well blame her. Honestly - Jesus fucking Christ, what is _that_?"

Rudy the dog stared up at Kol with the same brand of morbid fascination that Kol affixed him with. "Kol, language," Elijah immediately chastened before earning himself a proper look at the disheveled mongrel. ". . . Dear lord." He looked starkly horrified, as if it was an outright offense to his sensibilities that something so objectively gross would be in a ten-yard radius of his precious suit, which was _torn_ and _soaked in blood_ anyway, so he didn't have jack shit to complain about.

"It's . . . so filthy," Bekah said in a befuddled sort of awe. "I haven't seen something so disgusting in years." I glared at her, wriggling out of her hold. She was so transfixed by Rudy that she didn't even put up a fight. I loved her and everything, but she didn't get to insult my dog. "I've seen rotting corpses with better hygiene." Okay, I was _this_ close to kicking her in the shins.

Rudy sniffed at Kol's feet, and the Original jumped backwards so quickly he almost fell over. "It looks like a canine that was hit by a freight train and then got caught in a wildfire and then was miraculously killed by a mudslide, only to be revived as a botched Frankenstein-dog that was rejected from all forms of civilized society and lived out the rest of its days in a secluded cave in Iceland," he remarked. My jaw dropped in stunned outrage, especially as Katherine snorted into her hand. Rudy was _not_ that ugly. In fact, when he was clean, he was a gorgeous specimen.

Huffing, I stomped over to Rudy and threw my arms around his neck, tugging him into me and away from all the mean, judgmental vampires. Bekah gasped, and exclaimed shrilly, "Someone get it away before it gives her rabies!"

"Kill it with fire," Kol muttered. I suppressed the urge to snarl. If someone even _tried_ to touch him, I'd have my teeth embedded in their neck before they could say "I'm on it."

"That's Gracie's dog," Klaus explained with a tone of 'I know, I know, I hate it too', glancing over at me with his full lips twitched upward. He was more than amused by their predictable reactions. "He must've run off when Stefan killed his owners, and has been living in the forests ever since."

"I pulled the trigger, but you ordered the hit, Klaus," Stefan deadpanned, speaking for the first time since I arrived back.

"Yes, yes - tomayto, tomahto." Why did I miss him so much again? He obviously didn't care that Samara and Keisha were dead because of him. It was hard to remember sometimes why I loved him when he could be an enormous raging prick. And the rest of them weren't much better - they were a family of petty assholes who murdered on the side. "The point is that she's keeping him and that's final."

There was an aghast silence. The Mikaelsons - except Finn, bless him - looked at Klaus like he had just marched in with a pair of sparkly stilettos and a pink feather boa and announced that he was headed to Vegas to live out his fantasy of performing drag shows. Elijah was especially stricken - it was as if someone had prepared him his supreme favorite meal only to toss it into the trash right in front of him. " _Niklaus_ . . . think about this."

"I have thought about this," he replied calmly. "We'll clean it first, but we're keeping the dog. Grace has lost enough." Now I remembered why I loved him. Even though most of the time he wasn't a real ray of sunshine to be around, he still defended me. He was always in my corner. Maybe he was usually a douche about it, but he still did it.

Surprisingly, nobody argued. Either no one was in the mood to find a bone to pick with the big bad hybrid, or they pitied me and my dead family and friends; whichever one, I didn't care - I was grateful for Klaus's efforts. "Good boy," I cooed, ruffling the matted fur around Rudy's ears.

"I'm going to vomit," Kol declared, and Katherine, unfortunately for her, chose that moment to chuckle. "What are you laughing at, doppelgänger?" he demanded, and her smile dissipated like mist in the morning sunlight. "Last I checked, this didn't involve you."

"I must agree," Klaus mused, mirth draining from his features. "In fact, now that Gracie's all safe and sound, we should get down to business, shall we?" In one blur of movement, he had his hand wrapped around Katherine's throat, dropping my pillowcase to the grass. I could only blink. That was sudden. Stefan stood off to the side, poised as if to help her, but ultimately immobile. "You made a mistake traveling within fifty miles of me, love."

Elijah stepped forward with the barest hint of panic. "Niklaus -"

"Shut it, brother!" Elijah locked his jaw and fell silent. "She knows what she got herself into. It's only a shame that Stefan will die next." Katherine choked as Klaus lifted her into the air, his fingers tightening around her neck, denting the skin.

Aw, shit. I didn't _like_ either of them a whole bunch, but I didn't really want them to die. I mean, I set Stefan on fire and everything, but I never thought that he would, you know, burn to _death_. He kind of did me a solid by driving me to Tennessee. He owed me in the first place, but still. The dude didn't have to help me. And neither did Katherine, really. It was a ploy to worm herself into Klaus's good graces - guess that didn't work - but she was the one to find the tape. If she wasn't there, we may never have found it. I was thankful to her for that.

"I called you," she managed to croak through his iron grip. "I called you and told you where we were -"

"To save yourself," Klaus finished. "So I would take mercy on you. I can see right through you, Katerina. I have always been able to see through your little manipulations. It's over now." He punched a hole into her chest, and I scrambled backwards in shock. Someone placed a hand over my eyes - Finn, Rebekah, Elijah, I couldn't be sure - but I aggressively shook them off, and darted towards the scene of violence.

"Don't do it!" His fingers paused around her heart, and Katherine's frantic brown eyes flickered over to me. "Klaus, _please_!" He stayed still as stone, so I knew he was listening. "C'mon! She screwed you over five hundred _years_ ago, and she didn't _really_ screw you over. She didn't want to die in your weirdo sacrifice-y thing, so what? Who _wants_ to be sacrificed?" Really, though. She hardly betrayed him. She wanted to survive, what was the big deal? His nostrils flaring, Klaus craned his neck around to face me, never removing his hand. "You killed her entire family, including her little sister, who was only fourteen."

He murdered a kid. I didn't think I'd ever be able to move past that one. The slightest trace of remorse danced across his face. _Good_ , I thought. "And you _did_ break your curse, so you don't even have a good reason to be mad anymore. Plus, she also called you. She didn't have to. She could've kidnapped me and taken me to Timbuktu, and you wouldn't have found either of us." He opened his mouth to argue, but I held up a finger and continued before he could, "You didn't find her for five hundred years, Klaus, face it - you're not that good at finding people." His eyebrows crept up his forehead, and I was pretty sure he was about two seconds away from _really_ letting me have it, so I hurried to reach my point before he did. "So, honestly, this entire situation is a bunch of bullshit and you know it, I know it, Rudy knows it," I gestured to the wagging dog, "and even the friggin' pope knows it." Before he could bitch me out for swearing, I cemented my knockout punch: "I want you to do better 'cause I love you and stuff. So, let it go. I'll forgive you for lying to me if you forgive Katherine . . . and don't kill Stefan, either."

That was probably the best, most dramatic speech I'd ever delivered and I was genuinely a little proud of myself. I could be one of those professional speakers! What were they called? Oreganos? Wait, no. Those were plants or herbs or whatever. It started with an "o", didn't it? Oooooh, _orators_! Elijah used that word at some point or another. Yep, I could be an orator, and a damn good one. Or a lawyer. If I could argue on the behalf of a homicidal five-hundred-year-old vampire, then I could argue for any other run-of-the-mill murderer. It was perfect.

Klaus sighed, but yanked his hand out of her chest, where she then collapsed to the grass as a gasping, spluttering mess. "You're lucky you have someone to fight so vigorously on your behalf, Katerina." Blood dribbled out from the jagged hole in her chest, and it stitched itself back together in a mess of skin and muscles. "Even if it's only a little someone." Since he wasn't about to smack me for yelling and cursing at him, I rode my wave of good grace and shuffled over to him, slipping my hand into his non-bloody one. He peered down at me with a pronounced smirk and a 'I know exactly what you're doing and you're on thin ice but I'll let it go for now if you cut the shit' expression. Man, I was becoming really good at interpreting him. That could be my job, too. Klaus-interpreter. It was like its own language, and it would probably save a lot of unnecessary deaths. His future victims would thank me. "I offer you my official pardon, Katerina."

I had never seen so many vampires do imaginary spit takes at once, including Katherine, although she spat up a fair amount of blood instead. "W-what?" She massaged her chest with her clenched fist. "You're . . . _pardoning_ me?"

"You're _pardoning_ her?" Rebekah shrieked. She went ignored.

Klaus grinned slightly, seeming to enjoy the power he still wielded over her. "Yes. I will no longer hunt you down. You're free to roam anywhere and everywhere - including Mystic Falls."

I was a little taken aback, and glancing over my shoulder, I saw the faintest of smiles playing at Elijah's lips. That pleased me, because the dude hardly ever smiled, but I was still surprised. This was more than I'd even asked Klaus for. He was never this generous of his own accord. There had to be a catch. "What's the catch?" Katherine questioned tentatively - suspiciously.

Klaus waved her concerns off. "No catch. I want to be a better man for my fosterling, and honestly, it's a waste of my energy to be tracking you down - I have much better things to do with my time now." Aw, he actually listened to me! That was kind of sweet. In fact, that might've been the nicest thing he ever - "Well, there's a bit of a catch." Whomp, never mind. Katherine visibly gulped. "You're carrying the dog back."

I burst out laughing at the look on Katherine's face. He might as well have told her that he was planning to kill her after all. In fact, that might've been better for her. "I-I . . . what?"

His answering smirk was positively evil. "You will be carrying the dog back to Mystic Falls, and you will wash him. If you do that, you will earn your freedom."

Her mouth open and closed like a fish out of water. "That's . . . cruel and unusual punishm-"

"Shut up, Katherine," Stefan hissed, grabbing her by her elbow and hauling her to her feet. She stuck out her bottom lip and pouted, but it had no effect on him. "She'll do it." He turned to Klaus with an odd, hesitant smile-grimace combination. "So, about the part of the deal of me dying -"

Klaus rolled his eyes and angled away from him, scooping me underneath my butt with his clean arm and securing me to his hip like a toddler. "You entertain me, and you protected Grace. You may live. If you pull a stunt like this again, however, I will suffocate you with your entrails."

Stefan nodded, noticeably relieved. "Uh, yeah, got it."

"I'm sorry for setting you on fire," I piped up, and Klaus snickered. Sulking, I jabbed him in the ear and he smacked my hand away, which stung like a bitch. "I didn't mean to kill you. Honest. I just wanted to slow you down a little bit."

Stefan moved to shove his hands in his pockets, but then stopped himself when he realized how charred the fabric was. "Normally I wouldn't forgive someone for, you know, dousing me with alcohol and throwing a lighter at me, but you're cute and only eight, so I'll give you a pass." He smiled, and I smiled back, and all was well between us.

My business with these losers was officially over. Exhausted after a night of restless sleep and nightmares, and then the tumultuous day I suffered through, I rested my head against Klaus's shoulder, closing my eyes. He was warm and comforting and smelled distinctly wolfish, yet sweet. It was nice. I wasn't scared when I was with him. He could protect me from anything and everything. "Someone's tired," he murmured into the crown of my head. "Let's get you to bed."

I nuzzled my face into his shirt, contesting him even though he was right. "'m not tired."

"Are you certain about that?" He sounded amused again.

A blanket of sleepiness swirled around my mind, threatening to shut my brain off like a light switch. "Yeah, 'm sure," I slurred. "No' tired."

I lied. Sometime in the next five seconds or so I must've drifted off, and for the next small stretch of time I wavered between slumber and vague alertness. His arms held me in a shield of security, reminding me of all the times I would run to Daddy when I had a nightmare or skinned my knee or cried over Mama being gone. Klaus wasn't Daddy, but he was becoming increasingly similar to that role in my life.

A jumbled mess of voices tuned in and out of focus, joined occasionally by a bark. Some sounded angrier than others. In hindsight, it was probably a good thing that I slept through Rebekah throwing a shit fit over Katherine's pardon. Bekah was a sweetheart to me, but she could be a little mean sometimes. And she wondered why she couldn't maintain friendships.

At some point during their hectic conversation, Klaus shifted me in his clutch so I slumped against his chest instead. The movement stirred me awake, and I whimpered, rubbing my eyes with my half-clenched fists, but Klaus whispered into my ear, "Hush, sweetheart. Go back to sleep. Once Bekah finishes her little tantrum and Elijah calms her down, we'll head back home."

I gurgled out an incomprehensible response, and he chuckled, planting a kiss against my temple. Either he was convinced that Stefan and Katherine weren't watching, as to preserve his badass rep, or he didn't care. I hoped it was the second one. If it was the second one, then it meant his feelings of love and affection for me were real.

It meant they were permanent.

I drifted off again, slipping into a deeper sleep this time, content. At some point or another, there was a _whoosh_ and then a period wrought with gusting wind and rocky motions where Klaus must've carried me home, but it didn't bother me much or wake me. In fact, it was only when Klaus breathed, "Caroline," that I jerked fully awake.

Blinking furiously, I realized that we were standing in the Mikaelsons' driveway. Katherine was carrying a panting Rudy with an expression of extreme, undisguised distaste - she set him down almost instantly - and the rest of them loitered all about. Squinting, I searched for the blonde bombshell Klaus called out to, and spotted her near the porch, where she'd been sitting for who knew how long.

"Grace!" she squealed, blurring over to me and ambushing me with a hug. Well, since Klaus was still holding me, she caught him inside of it, too. I wondered if that was a strategic move of his. He _was_ devious like that.

Rolling his eyes, Kol stomped inside after grumbling something about being surrounded by people he either didn't know or didn't like. Finn, who was carrying my pillowcase, followed with less flair, most likely to give Caroline a moment with me. Rebekah and Elijah stayed outside - Rebekah probably to find an opportunity to murder Katherine, and Elijah probably to ensure that she wouldn't murder Katherine. Stefan was missing. In my sleep-muddled state, I momentarily worried that I _had_ managed to kill him, but remembered that he survived the fire and had to bring his motorcycle back.

"I'm sooooo glad you're okay!" Caroline gasped. She pulled away and cupped my face with both her hands, forcing me to meet her concerned blue gaze. I focused mostly on her, but Klaus's pronounced smirk was hard to block out. "I was so, so, _so_ worried!" She combed some strands of hair out of my forehead, and I relaxed at her touch. "I've been waiting here ever since Klaus called me. God, I was panicking when Damon told me you ran away. . . ." She noticed Klaus for the first time, and her countenance considerably soured. " _You_."

Removing her hands from my face and leaving coolness in their wake, she crossed her arms and jutted out her hip, appearing every part the angry girlfriend. "Jeez, Klaus, thanks for the head's up - oh wait, you didn't tell me! First, _Damon_ had to tell me she was missing, and then _Stefan_ had to tell me she was found!" He must've called or texted her when I was asleep. What a bro. "Do you know how much it _sucks_ to be given news by the _Salvatores_?!" She pursed her pretty, glimmering pink lips. "It sucks. A lot. Because they suck at breaking news to people. It sucked almost as much as _dating_ Damon -"

"You dated Damon?!" I repeated, stunned. Who would date Damon? Damon was rude and obnoxious and a ginormous dick! Why would Caroline - sweet, cheerful, optimistic Caroline - date Damon? She was so far out of his league it was legitimately baffling. I mean, sure, he wasn't _ugly_ , but Caroline was gorgeous! And she was so much nicer and smarter than him, it was ridiculous! Gawd. Also, depending on how long ago they dated, she must've been a good deal younger. Whether she was seventeen or sixteen or even fifteen years old, Damon was a creep for touching her with a ten-foot pole. I wondered if her mom knew about this. She was the town sheriff, wasn't she? I bet if she discovered the truth, she would shove her gun up his stupid vampire ass. That would be funny.

"Obviously your taste is worse than I thought, love," Klaus observed, and even though I was in shock, I was still tempted to punch him in the throat on Caroline's behalf. Seriously, he couldn't _not_ be an ass.

Caroline glowered. "Thanks, Klaus. As I _said_ , it sucked." Was Damon bad to her? I swear, if I found out he did _anything_ outside of being a perfect gentleman I would kick his ass all the way to the West Coast. Tucking a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, seemingly self-conscious, she glanced over at Klaus's siblings. She seemed surprised to see them, for whatever reason. "Oh . . . um, hey." She nodded at Rebekah with barely restrained animosity, which was returned with full force, then chanced a small smile at Elijah. "Uh, why is everyone but Rebekah all torn and bloody?" Shaking her head, she decided she didn't need to know the answer. "Oh, whatever. Hi Elijah, we haven't formally met. I mean, I sort of saw you at the mansion yesterday, but we haven't _met_."

He stepped forward with a courteous returned smile. "Miss Forbes. The pleasure is all mine." Reaching for her hand, he pressed his lips against the back of it, causing Klaus to stiffen against me. I stifled a chortle. He was _jealous_. Aw, what a doof. If he was so hung up over her why didn't he just ask her out already? It wasn't rocket science. I was only eight, and I knew the score.

Her smile widened. "Aw, you're too kin-" Evidently, she made the mistake of looking over his shoulder, because her good spirits evaporated and melted into fearsome, righteous fury. "Oh my God, what is _that_ bitch doing here?" Her abrupt change in demeanor was startling to everyone, and Elijah blinked, taken aback. "And no, I'm not talking about the dog."

Katherine raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow, her lips curving up into a sneer. "Wow, are you _still_ not over me murdering you with a pillow? It was almost a year ago, Forbes, you ought to move on." Caroline was right; she _was_ a bitch. Why did I save her again? I should've let Klaus skewer her. I scowled at her, hoping that the very force of my intense displeasure would blow her off the face of the earth.

Caroline pointed a finger at her, and with closer examination, I observed that it was trembling. "Listen here, you absolute freaking cu-"

Klaus covered one of my ears and pushed my head against his chest to muffle the other at the same time as Elijah cleared his throat loudly enough to interrupt her. The irked blonde snapped her head around in his direction and moved to chasten him for cutting her off when he said pointedly, "There are children here, Miss Forbes." Only then did Caroline seem to remember my presence, and she wilted away, ashamed. Klaus promptly released me, but I didn't understand. What was the big deal? What was she gonna say, anyhow? I poked Klaus, curious and hunting for answers, but he only shook his head down at me. I granted him my best pout, but he didn't budge. Ugh, he was so dumb sometimes.

Rebekah, meanwhile, was grinning away like the Cheshire cat. "I don't like you, Caroline, but I think I dislike you a little less now." The younger blonde only stared at her, as if unsure of what to make out of her weird praise-insult mixture. Coming from Bekah, though, that was a solid compliment.

Katherine scoffed, flapping dirt and grime off her blouse. "Please. That the best you can do, Caroline? I've had a four-year-old Slovakian boy call me worse."

What the hell was a Slovakian boy? I needed to find out. I poked Klaus again, harder this time. "Where's Slu - Sla - Slova - ?"

He breathed out a laugh, dimples revealing themselves on each of his cheeks. "Slovakia. It's in Eastern Europe, sweetheart." _Huh_. I was sorta hoping Slovakia would be in some kind mystical universe, like Narnia or Asgard, but that was okay too, I guess.

Caroline took on the appearance of a ticking time bomb ready to explode. What would a Caroline explosion even look like? I imagined pink bubblegum and a tattered cheerleader uniform and lip gloss, splattering everywhere. It would be a real mess, that was for sure. "You know what, _Katherine_? I like my life. For the most part, I'm happy. Meanwhile, nobody likes you. You have no real friends because you manipulate everyone." _Ouch_. The slimmest flicker of hurt crossed Katherine's pretty face before she could school her features into something impassive. " _So_ , I'm going to ignore you now and talk to Grace, because I _physically_ couldn't care less about you."

That sounded like a lie, but I was still proud of her. True to her word, she marched over to me, turning her back on the brunette vampire. I gave her a celebratory thumbs up, and she lifted her chin, apparently more than a little proud of herself.

Klaus wholeheartedly laughed, as he generally did when someone he wasn't fond of suffered a misfortune or was hurt in any way. He was a bit malicious like that. "How harsh of you, love!" He lowered his voice almost conspiratorially. "It suits you."

She sent an unreadable glance his way. I couldn't tell if she was flattered or annoyed, but there was a certain triumphant glint in her eyes that told me it was mostly the former. Her lips hid a smirk that was worthy of Klaus himself.

Katherine flicked her hand into a catty little wave to catch the hybrid's attention, who was currently entranced with the young blonde. "I took the gross dog back home. Can I go now, or do I need to stay and continue to be be verbally attacked?"

"I prefer that you stay and continue to be verbally attacked," Rebekah said sweetly. Katherine, indignant, opened her mouth and looked like she wanted to say something mean, but thought better of it. Rebekah would destroy her. Literally. She would annihilate her. She would go nuclear on her Petrova ass.

Elijah plucked a stray twig from Katherine's brown tresses that must've been transferred from Rudy's fur with an unusually thoughtless air about him. And she let him. I squinted at the two of them, measuring them up. They would be cute together, I supposed. She was all sass and nastiness, and he was all class and a different brand of nastiness. It could work. I hedged between liking her and detesting her, but if Elijah ended up dating her, then I'd willingly learn to deal with her and all of her bullshit because I was _that_ nice.

But she loved Stefan, supposedly. Which was stupid, because he didn't love her back and never would. He was with Elena. Personally, I didn't get why he was so head over heels over that girl, because in all honesty she wasn't a whole lot to rave over, but whatever. To each his own.

Elijah had loved Katherine - or _Katerina_ \- once upon a time, and she admitted to caring about him too. He could love her again, if he ever stopped. He was irritatingly strict with me sometimes, but he deserved love and happiness. If he found it in her, then I would be all right with that.

Caroline, still maneuvering through her charade of pretending Katherine no longer existed, informed me, "You know, you kind of pissed off both Damon _and_ Elena. Apparently you gave Elena the third degree about being with the Salvatores more than me after my dad . . ." She didn't finish, but she didn't need to. It was odd. She didn't even sound chastising. It was almost as if she . . . agreed with me.

And by Klaus's affectionate caress to my chin, I earned his approval. Only he would be pleased that I was mean to someone, but it made sense. He hated Damon, and he tried to kill Elena too many times for them to be buddies. "You're a little sprite, sweet girl." Hold the phone. _Sweet girl_? He didn't think I was sweet. Not at all. He told me on multiple occasions I was one of the saltiest persons he ever had the misfortune of meeting. Of course, I had asked him if he had, by any chance, ever peered into a mirror, and he smacked me upside the head.

Then it struck me like a bolt of lightning. He only called me "sweet girl" because Caroline was standing right there. He was trying to impress her! He was like one of those men who brought babies to bars to attract women. I couldn't believe he was using me as a _strategy_. Well, I could believe it, because it was Klaus, but it was still a little insulting.

If it worked, though, I would not complain.

After hearing that I hadn't been an angel to Elena, Rebekah also developed a certain glow to her. She despised Elena more than anyone else in all of Mystic Falls. If she discovered she had terminal cancer, I bet she'd throw a party.

Elijah was not similarly pleased. He punished me with an undeservedly stern look. "Were you rude to Elena?"

What. The. Actual. Hell? Who gave two shits if I wasn't the picture of politeness to Elena? Not me. Did he have a thing for her or something? Did he have a thing for _all_ Petrova doppelgängers? If Katherine didn't work out, was Elena his second option, since Tatia was long since dead? Did he want _both_ of them? Weird! "Uh, so?" My careless reply only served to displease him further. His eyebrows set lower, and his eyes narrowed. If Klaus hadn't been holding me, he might've very well slapped me silly - with his _words_. At least, hopefully. In fact, if I didn't have a good explanation, he could still do just that. "She stabbed Bekah, so she deserves it."

It wasn't a great defense, but it was the truth. Rebekah melted into a puddle of coos and simpers and blinding white teeth. "My precious, darling niece -" She pinched my cheeks and essentially slobbered over me in the same way people lost their minds over newborn babies. Elijah rolled his eyes and sighed, but backed off, returning to Katherine's side who was smiling coyly herself. She wasn't exactly Elena's number one fan either.

Caroline scrunched her nose in confusion. "Uh, niece?"

Klaus explained, shattering my world and rebuilding it anew - grander and bigger and better, "I'm adopting her."

I gaped at him. Caroline mimicked me. He was _adopting_ me? That was . . . huge! Monumental! That involved a bunch of paperwork and legality and crap. It meant that he really, really, _really_ wanted to keep me. Adoption was pretty goddamn permanent. He couldn't just . . . give me back.

And it meant that he wasn't my friend Klaus anymore. It meant he was . . . _dad_ Klaus. Dad Klaus was different than friend Klaus. He treated me a lot differently when he first met me than now, for instance. Before, he was fond of me and I mostly functioned as his entertainment. Now, he loved me and viewed me as . . . his kid, I guess. His daughter.

It meant that . . . I had to listen to him. _Whoa there, cowboy,_ I thought with imaginary screeching tires to match with it. _Let's not go that far_.

I didn't really know how to be a good daughter. Mama had wanted to kill me because I was a bad daughter, and Daddy put up with me because he had to. The Mikaelsons were _choosing_ me. Didn't that, by default, mean I had to be a good daughter? If I was bad, they would get rid of me, wouldn't they? They could make me leave whenever they wanted to, really. I had already ran away. If I slipped up again, that could be the final straw.

Panic began to charge my system like an electric current. Mama promised she'd love me no matter what, and she broke her promise. Klaus said he loved me, but for how long? He was fickle and bad-tempered. Anything could set him off. What if I put away the dishes wrong or got a low grade - presuming he'd ever send me back to school - and he decided to be finished with me? I would have nobody. Nothing, and nobody.

As Caroline perfected her impression of a statue - she was _still_ gawking - I collapsed in on myself and went quiet. Klaus, being a perceptive person on a fair day, noticed readily. "Grace?" He nudged a finger under my chin, forcing me to look up at him. "Is something wrong? Do you not want me to adopt you?"

There was a tense, pressured silence as everyone awaited my answer. "N-no, I do." My voice cracked on the way out, and I wanted to vomit. Mama lied about loving me, about protecting me. Klaus could lie too. It was only a matter of time.

"Then what's the matter?"

I glimpsed at Caroline, willing _her_ of all people to understand, and by the way her face fell, she did. She was the only one who knew about my mama. Knew how she hurt me. Knew how she had tried to murder me, her own daughter. Knew how she left me.

Caroline understood. She stepped forward, and I could have kissed her for what she said next. "I think she's just tired, Klaus." There was something distinctly _off_ in her tone, probably still struggling with the backstory I unloaded on her only a day before, and if I caught onto it, then the rest must've too. But thankfully, she didn't give them enough time to comment. "Maybe . . . maybe you should put her to bed."

Klaus looked from me to her, appraising us with a searching, sharp gaze. When he didn't receive any answers, he nodded slowly - carefully. "Yes . . . perhaps that is for the best." His arms tightening around me, he turned towards the mansion, only stopping to gesture at the doppelgänger and crow, "Ah ah ah, Katerina, not so fast! You're washing the dog. The hose is in the front lawn." I couldn't even enjoy her squawk of outrage, since my mood had spiraled into the dumps. "After that, you may leave. You may go stalk Stefan or Damon or even Elijah, whichever brother you've set your sights on this time." Elijah glared. "Or you could jump off the Empire State Building and impale yourself on a traffic light. It is of no concern to me." And with that, he marched on.

I remained mute as Klaus carried me inside, followed by Rebekah and Caroline after he'd invited the younger female in, which made Bekah grimace. Elijah stayed outside with Katherine, offering to keep her company but not to, of course, in any way assist with rinsing off Rudy. He really was a stickler for cleanliness.

Klaus asked if I wanted to take a bath first, since I was still covered in mud and smoke and droplets of blood, but I declined. I didn't care if it ruined my bed; I was just too tired. Since he had mountains of money, he didn't seem to mind either, considering the horrible day I had just been forced to experience. He made me brush my teeth and I did my business in the bathroom, but that was it.

The sight of my bedroom was a welcome one, although there was a hole in the wall now and the three-legged chair was in pieces. That was new. I could only assume Klaus punched through the plaster and smashed the chair once he discovered I was missing. "I'll fix that soon," he promised.

Klaus left for only a moment, allowing Rebekah to strip me of my ruined clothes and dress me in flannel, cloud-themed pajamas (Caroline had attempted to help but Bekah slapped her hand away, damn near removing it from her wrist). Only when I was settled under my covers and blankets did Klaus return, holding out Bekah the bear for me, having had retrieved the pillowcase from Finn. "Thanks," I mumbled, accepting the stuffed animal. He then replaced the pillow I destroyed earlier that day with a new one, and I leaned back onto it.

He kneeled by my bedside, Bekah lowering herself near him and Caroline hovering behind. "Are you sure you won't tell me what's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked, enveloping one of my small, dainty hands with his much larger one. I lifted one of my shoulders in a half-hearted shrug, and he nodded, as if expecting my lack of a response. "In the morning, then." He switched off my light. "Goodnight, Gracie, find me if you need me."

Both Bekah and Caroline murmured some sort of farewell too, but once my head hit the pillow, I was a goner, disappearing into the beckoning land of slumber.

* * *

 **Klaus's Perspective**

Klaus assessed the child fondly as she drifted off to sleep. All the worry and anxiety that had piled into her expression over the course of the last few minutes dissolved into peace.

He wished she would tell him what was bothering her. She did not seem necessarily opposed to the idea of him adopting her, but there was something about it that she was stuck on. Oh, well. He would badger it out of her in the morning; he was quite good at that.

Now that Grace was asleep, he surreptitiously glanced behind him, noting that Caroline was poised to leave. He wasn't daft; he knew she was only there for the child, and not for him, but he didn't want her to make such a hasty exit. For one, he enjoyed her company. However, the predominant reason he wished for her to stay was that he had questions for her.

When Gracie shut down after he mentioned his plans for adoption, she had shared a purposeful look with Caroline, who had then covered for the little tyke, but not without a shade of uncertainty. She knew something. She knew something that he didn't, and that simply would not do.

"A word, Caroline?" he said without facing her, catching her in her attempt to slip out. It was a testament to his little sister's versatile intuition that she didn't immediately protest; she was well aware that something was awry. She stalked from the room, and he had faith that she would be waiting for the two of them - she had always been nosy. "I believe we need to have a discussion."

Caroline hesitated, looking the part of a deer in the headlights. "Now that I know Grace is all right, I should go. My mom will be wondering where I went when she comes back from work. I forgot to leave her a note." The girl nodded, seemingly satisfied with her excuse, but Klaus most certainly was not.

He spun around on his heel and arched a single brow. "Is that not what your cell phone is for, love? We do live in the Modern Age, after all." He almost smiled at her expression. She was assuredly swearing in her head for not inventing a better reason to leave. Caroline was clever, doubtless, but she was also nervous. And he had observed her well enough by now to understand that when she was nervous, she made mistakes. "Forgive me, sweetheart, but my request for a conversation was not quite a request."

Caroline's general countenance of awkwardness turned hard and stony, which Klaus did have to admit was rather attractive on her. "So you're not letting me go." It wasn't a question. She exhaled sharply through her nostrils. "God, Klaus. Whenever I think you're," she violently brandished her hands about, "different, you do _this_." Her voice steadily crept higher in volume as her frustration reached a boiling point. "I have no idea how you go from a man adopting and showering love on a little orphaned girl to Dr. Evil in five seconds flat. It's giving me whiplash!"

Whether she had intended to or not, she admitted to liking certain aspects of him, even if it was only how he behaved towards Grace. He smiled inwardly. He could work with that. After all, he had managed to seduce women before who had loathed him, and Caroline didn't quite loathe him anymore.

Caroline wasn't any woman, however. She was a challenge, and he _loved_ it.

"You're going to wake Grace up," was all he said, strolling past her and allowing his shoulder to brush against hers. She straightened at the contact, and he smirked. "And considering our conversation is about the little werewolf, then perhaps you should be a fraction more interested in staying."

Klaus focused his hearing, and located Rebekah in the study, with their mother. He stifled a growl of ire. He didn't have the patience to deal with the older woman now, especially considering he still harbored doubts about her. There were also tensions between she and Grace that hadn't gone unnoticed by him. All of which he planned to uncover in the morning.

Both women stood up with similar grace and posture once he entered the room, Caroline in tow, who did a double take at all the holes in the wall. His mother spoke first. "I am very glad that the child is safe, Niklaus." Was she? He kept his expression impassive. She was an excellent liar, and Klaus wasn't sure what to make of her quite yet. Her cool brown eyes - which she had passed down to Elijah, Finn, Kol, and Henrik - wandered over to the beautiful vampire behind him. "We have not met. My name is Esther Mikaelson."

Caroline audibly swallowed. She must've known that the witch had once been murdered by Klaus himself, and didn't know how to act around her. "Hi. I'm Caroline. Caroline Forbes."

His mother didn't smile, but she inclined her head in acknowledgement. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

The blonde girl twisted her hands together. She was still anxious about the upcoming conversation. "You too."

Finn then popped in the doorway, and by all accounts didn't appear too thrilled, although he never did. "Mother." Klaus felt a spark of genuine surprise at the iciness of his tone. His eldest brother had never spoken to their mother with anything less than the utmost reverence. This was an odd change of pace. "May we speak in private?"

She lifted herself to her full height, evidently detecting the same lack of typical affection. "Yes, of course, my son. Lead the way." Not bothering to wait for her, he stomped off. As she trailed after him, Elijah glided in next.

"Are we having an impromptu meeting?" he asked after extending a cursory look-over of the occupants of the study. "Katerina has taken her leave, and Kol has disappeared to parts unknown." Klaus huffed a breath of amusement. _Shocker_. Kol couldn't sit still if his life depended on it. "The," his lips thinned with distaste, "canine is being cared for by a maid and has been relocated to a guest room."

Caroline cocked her head in bewilderment, swiveling in Klaus's direction. He knew what she was going to demand of him, so he said before she could, "I pardoned Katerina."

"You pardoned her?" He expected a pitch of resentment in her voice, but he didn't find it. It was strange. The doppelgänger had suffocated Caroline and cut her human life tragically short without a shred of remorse. The plucky blonde detested her, and for good reason. And yet, she didn't sound disturbed by this new onslaught of information. She sounded almost . . . impressed. By him. "Wow. I didn't think you were capable of showing mercy. Color me surprised."

Before Grace, he wasn't capable of it - most of the time. Marcellus had to some degree fundamentally altered his character, although he reverted back after he perished in the fire. But he hadn't been able to return to his former cruel self with _complete_ perfection. He likened it to ninety-nine percent. Most of his time was spent as he once was, but there was the 0.1 percent that could not be entirely forgotten and ever so occasionally bubbled to the surface.

It was bizarre, because he sincerely did not care about Katerina anymore. He had spent five hundred years evoking terror in the doppelgänger and endeavoring to exact revenge on her, but he had no interest in that or her any longer. Now that Grace was in his life, his priorities had shuffled around to accommodate her, and one of those lowered, then scrapped priorities was the existence of one Katerina Petrova. He was considerably more happy now with the little rugrat running beneath his heels, and his desire for vengeance was sated.

He, however, was perplexed by Caroline's acceptance. She had even more reason to latch onto a long-lasting grudge against the doppelgänger than he did, and yet . . . She was full of light and kindness, unlike what he had witnessed in a long time. And he was like a moth attracted to her light. She was stunning, inside and out.

She fascinated him.

"I'll take that as a compliment," he drawled, and she crossed her arms, taking on a thoughtful and simultaneously irritated pose. It looked good on her. With difficulty, he turned back to his brother. "Yes, we're having a meeting of sorts, Elijah. About Grace, and about what Caroline here is hiding about Grace."

Caroline's jaw hit the floor, and Rebekah said humorously, "Get used to it, love, he's always like this. He trusts no one, not even his little _obsession_."

Klaus sent his sister a truly dark look that shut her up in an instant. Sometimes he wanted to strangle her senseless. He wasn't obsessed with Caroline. He may have fancied her, but that hardly warranted the term _obsession_.

Elijah, ever the mediator, interrupted the would-be skirmish with, "And what, pray tell, shall this discussion entail?"

Klaus was never one to skirt around an issue. He lived too many lifetimes and had seen too much bloodshed to not be able to manipulate situations into his favor. Now was no different. "Grace faltered when I mentioned I would be adopting her. Why is that, Caroline?"

She shot him a prissy sneer. "I don't know, maybe it has something to do with your winning personality."

Rebekah's hearty snort and Elijah's tiny, hidden, sly smile did not appeal to Klaus in the slightest. He reflected the young vampire's sneer with proper gusto. "Now, now, love - let's not be catty. Perhaps it would be amusing in another context, but this is about _her_ , and she is my greatest priority."

Caroline's bravado and quick wit faded into a heavy but somehow distant sadness, as if she were far away and not standing before him. "You're right, but I-I . . . can't tell you."

Elijah, always the gentleman and connoisseur of endless patience, flicked a hand toward the couch and lowered onto the mahogany-colored cushions, in which she followed his lead and joined him. "Miss Forbes, please. If she told you something of any importance, then we need to know."

She floundered in the face of his gentle, soft interrogation. Clearly, she was more prepared to deal with harsh treatment, because she could steel herself and fire back sarcastic retorts. But his questioning spawned only from concern, and she didn't have the same defense to protect herself from that. "She told me in confidence," she said much more timidly than before.

"She's eight," Rebekah snapped. "She doesn't know what's best for her, and she obviously doesn't have good judgement, if today is an example of anything."

Klaus wished he could argue with her logic, but it was impossible. Gracie was an intelligent little girl, but today did prove that she was too impulsive and inept in the art of making wise decisions. It also proved that she needed to be kept on a tighter leash, and required more sufficient supervision. She wouldn't like it, not at all, because she was an independent child, but it was necessary - he would not have a repeat of today's events.

As he predicted, Caroline was better prepared for venom than honey, and reacted accordingly. "She trusts me!" she countered angrily, jumping to her feet and unleashing onto his sister a healthy dose of vitriol. "She poured her heart out to me in an effort to distract me from my dad's death, and I _refuse_ to shatter the trust she extended to me!"

Klaus couldn't help the pinprick of hurt that formed in his chest in realizing that something was troubling his Grace deeply, and she confided in another. Was he not approachable enough? He supposed not. Yet another matter that he would have to improve upon, for her.

He did harbor a certain respect for Caroline that she would protect his fosterling's secrets. Despite that respect, however, he needed to know the truth in order to help his little girl, and she was currently in the way of that. "She's in pain, Caroline," he wheedled her. "And whatever she told you was before she learned the truth about her father." Stefan had relayed the revelations Grace bore witness to over the phone to the blonde, who had been devastated on the child's behalf. "Don't you want to alleviate what ails her?"

She exploded into a flurry of white-hot rage, all directed towards a single target: him. "Of course I do!" Her fists curled up into tremoring balls, and her lips peeled back into a snarl. "I care about her a _lot_ , Klaus! After my dad was killed, she was the _only one_ who made me feel better at all! Sh-she _helped_ me, and -"

As much as he found himself attracted to her, Klaus still did not appreciate being spoken to with such disrespect or excess volume. Even if it was from her. "Then help her!" he shouted back, and by the way she stumbled back a step, he must have frightened her. Elijah stood cautiously, as if readying himself to enter the fray and assuage the situation before it overheated. "If you care about her as you say, then don't leave us in the dark! She's a child, Caroline, she cannot handle this on her own!"

" _I know!_ " she screeched, blood rushing to her cheeks and moisture springing to her eyes. Her fury abandoned her as swiftly as it arrived, and a floodgate of tears pushed past her defenses and streamed down her cheeks. "I-I _can't_. I can't betray her trust like that."

"You can, Miss Forbes," Elijah cajoled, removing his handkerchief from his pocket with a flourish. He passed it over to her, and she folded the fabric, dabbing at her wet cheeks. "Rebekah and Niklaus are right. She is a child. She doesn't know what's best for her."

She coughed out a watery laugh, sinking back down onto the cushions. "You underestimate her." Sniffing loudly, she toyed with the handkerchief. Klaus could see the minute trembling of her fingers. It took no expert to detect the conflict raging within her. Loyalty versus responsibility. "I'll . . . give the bare bones of it, okay? That's all I can do for you. You want the details, you ask her."

"We'll take what we can get, sweetheart," Klaus said, settling back onto the armchair across from her. He neglected to remind her that all of them were skilled torturers, and were capable of extracting the information from her if they so chose to. She was different, and he didn't want to harm a single blonde hair on her head if it could be helped.

The mere thought of distinguishing even a fragment of her light was horrific to him.

Elijah mirrored her position on the couch, cementing his position as the "good cop." Klaus presumed that he was the "bad cop." Rebekah, from where she paced the room with a restless fervor, was the wild card.

The young blonde drew in a shaky breath before beginning. "So, around a year ago, she killed her uncle. It was - it was an accident." His instincts warned him, urged him, that she was lying, but he dropped it - for now. It wouldn't do to interrupt her now and provoke her into retreating in on herself. "It was her mom's little brother. Her mom came home, saw all the blood, and . . . freaked out. She attacked her, called her a bunch of horrible names -"

"What do you mean _attacked_ her?" Rebekah cut in, her fingertips tapping furiously against her chin as she paused in her pacing only to await Caroline's reply.

Caroline had since stopped crying, and stared forward with a dullness that seemed to embody a lack of faith in all of humanity. "Like I said, not getting into details." At Rebekah's poisonous glare, she divulged reluctantly, "She hurt her. She hurt her with the intentions of . . . seriously harming her. Her dad came home, and threw her mom off, while Grace healed with her new werewolf powers that she gained after killing her uncle."

Healed. _Healed_. That implied one thing, and one thing only. Her mother had to have hurt her _severely_ if her supernatural healing was a necessary component. A rush of black rage swelled up in his stomach, tightening and festering and creeping its way up his insides. He imagined the darkness wrenching out of him in wisps and curled fangs, trickling into his hands, his fingers, where Grace's faceless mother knelt before him, and the darkness propelled his hands forward and around her vulnerable neck, where he squeezed the life out of her, and she crumbled to ash and dust beneath his palms. . . .

Shattering his trance-like reverie, Caroline murmured, "They fought physically, and then got into some kind of screaming match that ended with her mother leaving and not coming back. So, considering her own mom promised to love and protect her, and did _that_ , I'm guessing she's worried you'll do the same."

And he had hurt her before. Of course she was scared that it would all fall apart. It had before. With her mother, nonetheless, the one person she was meant to trust the most. If he didn't soothe her fears, then the incidents of that day were destined to repeat themselves - Grace was officially a flight risk.

Caroline rose back to a standing position, and set him with a soft, sympathetic expression. "That's all I can say, but . . . I'm censoring it." The hole that had ripped open in his stomach threatened to expand and cave in on itself. What was she censoring? How much worse could it be? He had a sinking sensation that it had something to do with her uncle. He highly doubted his death was an accident, but why would she have the need to kill him?

Well, he had a few theories. Each one was worse than the last.

"If you're censoring yourself, then tell us the unsullied truth," Rebekah barked, but he could hear the pleading note to her voice. She was as grieved by this new information as he himself was - and by the manner in which Elijah stiffened and bent forward almost imperceptibly at the torso, he was as well. ". . . Please."

Caroline was shaking her head before she even finished, her yellow hair whipping back and forth into a golden halo. "No," she said firmly. "I won't break her trust even more than I already have. I'm sorry. Just . . ." She gnawed on her lip, the stormy conflict from before returning with full force. "Get her some therapy, all right?"

With a _whoosh_ , she disappeared from the room, but Klaus followed closely, easily catching up to where she slowed in his driveway. Her fierce waves of hair glowed white in the moonlight, drifting down her shoulders with a sparkle of ivory. The surrounding gnarled trees, cloaked in darkness and a fine layer of fog, gifted her an ambience of mystery and intrigue. In that moment, she looked nothing less than a goddess.

No, perhaps not a goddess, for he was not a god. He was a king, and she was a queen. And he decided then and there that she would be _his_ queen. Little Grace would, of course, be their princess.

"What do you want now, Klaus?" She didn't sound cross with him, only tired and demoralized. "I shared all I'm willing to share. I'm sorry."

"Thank you, Caroline." Her head snapped up in earnest surprise, and he felt a twinge of amusement.

Her delicate eyebrows knitted together, incredulity clouding her lovely features. "You're thanking me? But I didn't even tell you everything." Her gaze darted from side to side, as if she were searching for a trap. "I mean, I thought Rebekah was going to demolish me."

He strolled over to her, lithe as a wildcat and with a pace of relaxed leisure. Her lips parted as he closed in on her. "I'm thanking you for a multitude of factors, sweetheart." He circled behind her, taking his time. "I'm thanking you because you value Grace enough to uphold her trust, and I'm thanking you because, in tandem, you value Grace enough to do what's best for her."

A flush of color paraded across her cheeks, and he was thunderstruck by her beauty. He didn't think it was possible for her to look any more ravishing, and it seemed that every second that rolled by, she proved him wrong. "I care about her. I wasn't lying about what I said. She's eight years old, but she was the only one who made me feel better about my dad's death. She was the only one besides Bonnie who even _tried_ that hard."

He could read between the lines. In the wake of his family reuniting, Elena must have spent a majority of her time under the supposed protection of the Salvatores, even when her good friend was in need. His opinion of the youngest doppelgänger plummeted - not that it was particularly lofty to begin with.

Stepping towards her, he relished at the manner in which she tensed. He narrowed the distance between them until her back grazed against his chest. "You are most welcome here, Caroline." Perhaps unconsciously, she angled her head in the direction of his voice. His breath cascaded against the tiny, delicate hairs lining her neck, and she shivered.

After a beat that lasted too long for her to be wholly disinterested, she pulled away from him and played at agitation. Klaus didn't buy it. "I have to go," she sighed. He waited for her to leave. She didn't. "You know, you're a lot different when you're with her. With Gracie." He found himself holding his breath. Not often was he so invested in what somebody was about to say. It was as if she had the unique capability to cast a spell on him, and he enjoyed every second of it.

She smiled at him, and he was entranced by its sincerity. "I like you better when you're with her. Goodnight, Klaus." With a twirl of blonde and a flash of movement, she was gone.

"Goodnight, Caroline," he replied to the looming trees. Their only response came a flirtatious rustle of leaves and a lone hoot of an owl. He wasn't certain how long he stood outside, watching the multifaceted, complex force of nature all around him. It had been a long while since he stopped to appreciate it. He supposed that's what they were doing to him. Grace and Caroline. The former stole his stony heart, and the latter threatened to crack it open.

Klaus had not fancied a woman in a thousand years. He had kindled an attraction to many a beautiful lady, and had ever so often felt an accompanying rush of desire, but it was not the same. He could lust after a countess clad in the finest silks and gold jewelry, and not a week later, after he had discovered all he needed to know with her tangled in his sheets, he would toss her aside and set his sights on her servant clothed in rags. And so the cycle continued, once he spotted a pretty cook with a shy smile or a handsome duchess with a witty repertoire. He never cultivated lasting feelings for a single one of them after he seduced them. In fact, he could hardly remember even a few of their names.

Because the game would end, and he would bore. All of his conquests blended together now - yellow hair, red hair, brown hair, black hair; blue eyes, green eyes, brown eyes, gray eyes - they all molded and bled into indistinct, forgotten memories. He held no sense of nostalgia for them. He was pickier than his younger brother - Kol would chase any skirt if it was attached to a shapely pair of legs - but none of his finicky behavior still etched the women he chose into his mind for longer than he bedded them.

Caroline was different. Physically, she resembled some women he had been drawn to before, with eyes that reflected the sky and hair that carried the sun and a cheeky grin that warned men and invited them alike. She was gorgeous, no doubt - a living artwork. And he fancied her mind. Her cleverness. Her ability to match his fire word for word, breath for breath, touch for touch.

But it was her lightness that called to him. Her immortal lightness, even in the aftermath of adversity and strife. It was unmistakable and irresistible. She crooned songs of purity and kindness, even to those who didn't deserve it. He did not deserve, intermittently between her bouts of anger towards him, the kindness she offered to all on a silver platter. She was an angel descended from the heavens - and she made the mistake of landing on the devil's doorstep.

But he saw the truth as clear as day. How the creature of light was enticed by the beast of darkness. Darkness had its allure, one not even light could escape. She was reviled by him as concurrently as she was intrigued by him.

He had . . . _feelings_ for her. The last woman he had felt something for was Tatia, in the eleventh century. He had been fiercely in love with her, but a fair portion of his affection had been fueled by his competition with Elijah. Caroline, again, was different. She was his, and his alone. Tyler Lockwood was nothing more than an inconvenience.

He smiled the entire path back into the mansion, and would have kept smiling if he hadn't heard a small cry of distress that tore him from his brief moment of happiness and sent worry spiraling through his veins. He was up the stairs and outside of Grace's room in an instant, only to be blocked by the presences of Elijah, Rebekah, and even Finn, who were already there. His little sister was hunched over the child's writhing, sweating body and whispered sweet nothings, and Elijah had his hand pressed against the child's glistening forehead. Finn stood off to the side in a state of apparent anxiety, his fists clenching and unclenching again and again. "She's having a nightmare," he informed Klaus needlessly.

"Move," Klaus ordered, in no mood to be polite now that his fosterling was in such a state of malaise. His second eldest brother swiveled out his way, but Rebekah only shifted to the little girl's other side. The wolf cub's face was contorted in discomfort and feverous pain. Sweat had soaked through her pajamas, and her hair was drenched and stuck to her face. She mewled pathetically, and loosed a series of dry sobs. "Sweetheart, wake up." He moved to grasp her by her arms but she flailed out of his grip in a bout of sudden desperation, wailing out to nobody and everybody.

"What do we do?" Rebekah demanded, panic lacing her tone, which had risen about two octaves. "We can't let her go on like this, she's in pain. . . ."

"Enter her mind," Elijah suggested from the doorway. "Assail her troubles from inside of her dream."

It was a tactic Klaus had used successfully on a young Marcellus several times, when the boy would have nightmares of his wretched childhood. The more he learned about Grace, the more he began to conclude that her childhood, while fundamentally different, was as volatile as Marcel's. Without another word, he pressed both of his hands against her temple, and concentrated on forming a psychic link with the troubled girl.

* * *

 _He was in a dark, cramped room - a closet, perhaps, he deduced as he took in the broomstick leaning in the corner and the vacuum tucked away behind the cleaning supplies. Besides him was little Grace, who had her face buried in her knees as she cried silently. Her hands, clasped together, were stained with blood. She was praying._

 _Klaus was about to reach for her when a pair of monstrously loud voices made the closet quiver on its frame. This was not simply a dream, he realized. This was a memory. A distorted, mangled memory, but a memory nonetheless._

 _He recognized the furious voice of Ray Sutton first. "I can't believe you!" There was a crash, and an explosion of shards that rained down onto the floor - a plate, perhaps, or a glass. "You're her_ mother! _How could - how could you_ do _that to her?!"_

 _What did she do to Grace? It was invasive, but he half-wanted to listen to the argument unfold so he could learn more about the little girl's damaged psyche. However, he didn't want the flashback to batter her mind further, and so he resolved to end the dream as soon as possible. He reached out once again and trailed his fingers against her temple. Her head shot up, and she looked up at him with wide, fearful eyes. "Gracie, I'm here," he whispered. "I -"_

" _She murdered my little brother!" a woman screeched, who Klaus inferred to be Grace's mother. She had the same lilting southern twang as Grace did. "She stabbed him, and left him to die! She's a demon, a monster!"_

 _Klaus loathed her as soon as the first syllable plunged from her lips. How dare she call her only child such vile names, after physically attacking her? It reminded of him how Mikael used to beat and belittle him, and how Marcel's white governor father treated him - as a slave, rather than a son. Parents such as those deserved to die a horrific, agonizing death. He killed his own father, and he eventually killed Marcel's. Grace's mother was next on his list._

" _Your_ brother _," Roy spat the term with poorly disguised disgust, "deserved it, whatever he did! Gracie wouldn't do that on her own, he had to - he had to have_ done _something -"_

 _The voices cluttered together in one venomous wreck as Grace's dream sharpened in and out of focus. She must have been so terrified at the time that she didn't properly comprehend what was happening. "Gracie," he said, pulling her close to him. "Gracie, I'm here. You're safe now. She cannot hurt you."_

" _I'm scared," she replied, clutching frantically at his shirt and hiding her face in his lapel. The walls bent and shuddered, the material folding into ugly markings and jagged slashes. A thick liquid bubbled at the slashes and oozed down the plaster, crimson globules pooling onto the dusty hardwood below. Her potent fear was altering her dream._

" _I'm leaving!" her mother screamed, and the fixtures in the wall split in every direction, hairline fractures spreading like wildfire. "You're choosing that - that_ freak _over your own wife?!" Grace released a pitiful sob, and he kissed her on the head, assuring her repeatedly that nothing could hurt her, that she was safe with him. "Fine, then. So be it. I'm leaving the_ both _of you!"_

" _Mama, don't go," Grace blubbered, attempting to claw free of his unyielding embrace. "Mama, I'm sorry . . ."_

" _You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart," Klaus insisted, but the child only shook her head wordlessly. "Relinquish yourself of your guilt. None of this is your fault." He understood her. Oh, how he understood. When he was a child, he had blamed himself for Mikael's hatred. But it wasn't his fault that his mother had found love in another, and it wasn't Grace's fault that her mother abused her and abandoned her. "It isn't your fault."_

 _The dream warped again, the walls curving into incoherent, impossible shapes before dissolving completely, revealing a very much alive Ray Sutton towering over a petite brunette woman with Grace's facial structure and similar skinny, bird-like frame. "Get the fuck out of this house!" he bellowed, and she cowered beneath him._

 _Klaus wasn't positive whether Grace had managed to catch a glimpse of her parents through the door hinge when the event had actually occurred, or if her mind was filling in the blanks of what she had overheard. Either way, it was not a pretty picture. "Get the fuck out, and never come back!" And there ended the mystery of who taught the little sprite to swear._ Neanderthals _, he thought. "Come back, and I'll kill you dead!"_

" _Wake up, Gracie," he coaxed her as she moaned unintelligibly after her mother, who had stormed out the front door and slammed it behind her so hard the entire house shook, crushing her daughter's heart. "It's over now. Wake up."_

* * *

Grace gasped awake, severing their mental link and shoving him out of her dream. To his surprise, a sheen of sweat had beaded onto his brow; the experience had taken more out of him than he would ever admit. As soon as the little girl settled her frenzied gaze upon him, she dissolved into tears. " _K-Klaus_."

He had hardly a moment to prepare before she flung her arms around his neck, and wept noisily into his shoulder. Over her head, he exchanged meaningful looks with his siblings - even Finn. Caroline was right. The child was more disturbed by what she had lived through than any of them thought.

They were fools for ever assuming otherwise.

 **A/N: Yeah, so Grace is screwed up. I mean, you guys all summarized it pretty well. Not only has she been through a whole bunch of crap, but she's also only eight years old. The Mikaelsons have kind of forgotten that. And no, Klaus doesn't know about her uncle yet because Caroline didn't spill the beans and Grace didn't dream about him this time, but he has . . . suspicions. Klaus is a very smart person. He knows that there are only so many reasons Grace would kill him, but he hopes it's different than what he thinks.**

 **And yes, Klaus pardoned Katherine. It may seem sudden and out of character, but here's the thing: with Grace in his life, he honestly doesn't care about her anymore. Revenge doesn't mean as much to him as Grace does, and she specifically asked him to forgive Katherine. He wants to make amends with Grace, so he agreed. She's a good influence on him, and slowly but surely, she's changing him. He wants to be better for her. Obviously, he's still Klaus, so it won't happen right away, but it's happening piece by tiny piece.**

 **And KLAROLIIIIIIINE! Love them. I kind of wish I could just make them hook up already, but ya know. Plot. Character development. Yada yada. She's more forgiving towards him when she sees how he behaves around Grace. Will he use that to his advantage? . . . Duh, it's Klaus.**

 **Anywho, thank you so much for reading, and please tell me what you thought in the reviews!**


	16. To Be a Mikaelson

**A/N: It's been over two months since I last updated. I'm such a tool. So many apologies, guys. With AP tests and finals, it's been a hectic time for me. Luckily, school just ended, and so I'll have more time to write! Whooooo! Thank you all SO MUCH for the favorites, follows, and reviews (I'm near 500 follows OH MY GOD), and a special shout-out to Jordanbear for leaving such a long review - I actually screamed when I saw it. I treasure each and every review, so thanks again everyone, from the bottom of my heart.**

 **This chapter somehow ended up being the longest one I've ever written for this story, because I felt so bad about making you guys wait for so long. It's around 18,000 words, over thirty pages, and an odd mix of fluff, humor, a little angst, and the usual underlying "oh yeah Grace has some serious emotional issues that probably require therapy."**

 **This chapter is all about Grace learning how to be a Mikaelson, hence the title. She interacts with a wide range of characters - we've got some Kol/Grace bonding here! - and Caroline is also in this chapter, although there's no Klaroline. You'll see. I'm introducing a few OCs in this chapter, because it's about time Grace made a friend her own age, and of course said friend can't just be normal, right...? Right!**

 **Anywho, I've made you guys wait long enough. Please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks again! :D**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything or anybody but Grace and the Sureshes. I don't own Harry Potter either (Grace makes a reference) and there's a line near the end that was essentially what a young Hope said to Klaus in Originals, and I don't own that either. I'm a teenage girl, basically I don't own jack shit.**

 **Chapter 16: To Be a Mikaelson**

 **Grace's Perspective**

When I woke up in the morning, I was enveloped in warmth. Arms were locked tightly around me, and beneath me lay a hard pillow - wait, no, it was a _Klaus_. As I blinked the blurriness out of my eyes, I realized that I was sprawled out on top of him, centered mostly on his chest. His slow, unnatural heartbeat served as a comforting lullaby. _Lub-lub . . . lub-lub . . . lub-lub_.

How did I end up here? The last thing I remembered - _oh_. I had a bad dream. A nightmare, really. I was reliving the toxic argument my parents had before my mama left, but this time, Klaus was there. At first, I thought it was only an odd component to the dream, designed to screw with me, but soon enough it became clear that it was really him, and that he was trying to rescue me from my own mind.

I was lucky that he didn't stumble upon a nightmare with my uncle. He would have _lost his shit_. Not only would he have attempted to murder my dream-Uncle Luke, but in real life he would have gone straight for my mama, hell or high water. I was well aware that if Klaus knew the truth about her, that she stabbed me after I killed my uncle, who had been trying to hurt me real bad, then he would kill her. I wasn't sure how I felt about that. She wasn't part of my life anymore, so what was the difference?

But was still my mama, and somehow, I still loved her.

Anyway, Klaus wrenched me free of my dream, and when I startled awake they were all there - Elijah, Bekah, Finn. And I sobbed like a baby in front of them. Heat stained my cheeks at the mere memory of it. That was embarrassing. Hadn't I cried enough around them? They probably thought I was weak. I was eight years old - basically a grown-up. I couldn't do taxes and I barely even knew what a mortgage was, but I was almost double digits! That was a really big deal. Maybe none of them would think so, because they were all quadruple digits, but in the kid universe, it was _monumental_.

Klaus stirred beneath me, but I had a feeling he hadn't slept the whole night. More likely than not, he had been watching me like a hawk to make sure I didn't have any more nightmares. It worked, in a way. I _didn't_ have another nightmare. "Awake, sweetheart?" he asked, not even a hint of a sleepy or slurred note to his voice. Yeah, he stayed up all night.

"'m awake," I mumbled, half-wishing I wasn't. I was still bone-tired, despite all the hours of sleep I must've earned.

He sat up with me still tucked safely in his clutch, and I contentedly snuggled against him, until I noticed that something was _off_. Wait, where the hell was I? Suspicious, I examined the comforter that covered us both. It was a solid, shiny bronze hue, nothing like the flowery, girlish design of mine. The room was bigger, too, and the walls were beige and hole-less. Realization slapped me upside the head. This was Klaus's room. _Duh_. He must've carried me there after my nightmare.

"You need a bath," he observed, fiddling with a knotted strand of my hair, without paying heed to my fleeting episode of puzzlement. "Rebekah will help you clean yourself off."

The outrage! They _did_ think I was a baby. "I'm eight," I reminded him with a pointed scowl. "I can take a bath by myself." What, did he think I was going to drown or something? Who died in a bathtub? But, then again, I was pretty sure it happened to at least someone before. What a sad thing to put in an obituary. _John Smith, 36, leaving behind his wife and two children because he drowned in a bathtub. The dog found him next to the rubber duck_. I choked down a laugh. Man, I really was morbid.

"You're stained with mud and a spot of blood, you reek of smoke, and your hair is a force to be reckoned with. You need help," he said matter-of-factly, leaving me no room to argue my fate. "Humor me."

Groaning, I rolled off his chest and onto the edge of the mattress, stretching out all of my limbs like a cat. "But you don't _have_ a sense of humor," I complained, and he gave me a playful glower. To annoy him further, as was my utmost favorite hobby, I slowed all of movements until I was dramatically stretching at about five percent of my original speed.

Without any warning, he thumped me good-naturedly on the back of my head to propel me into motion, and I yelped at the sudden ache, losing my balance and effectively tumbling right off the bed. "Ow!" I whined after I connected with the floor, rubbing my poor unsuspecting skull and ducking away from the nasty old hybrid. "That _hurt_."

He had the nerve to roll his eyes at me, and honestly, I was feeling a little attacked right then. "Let me get this straight. You transform into a wolf once a month in a wretched process where all of your bones break. You were stabbed in the back by my father, and hardly made a peep." I grinned in spite of myself, proud of my all-around toughness. "And yet, I tap you lightly on the temple, and you can't handle it." Was he _insulting_ me? 'Cause that sounded like an insult to me. If he wasn't invincible and a thousand years older than me, then I'd elbow him in the face. "I think," he continued loftily, "that this is all a ploy to stall me, because you hate baths."

He hit the nail right on the head. I hated baths. Hated, hated, _hated_ baths. Showers too. All the time I traveled with Klaus around the country to collect his stupid new hybrid toys, he had to practically threaten me with murder to force me in the tub. But, because I was hardwired to make everything difficult for him as well and often as I possibly could, I protested, "No, I don't!"

He arched a challenging brow. "You don't? Then go to the bathroom, get in the bathtub, and allow Rebekah to clean you off."

I squirmed in place. This wasn't turning out great for me at all. Not only was I going to have to take a bath, because he had to win _all the time_ , but he was calling me on my crap too, and I didn't like that much either. "Well, I don't know which bathroom to go to, because there are, like, a thousand and three!" I tried. It _was_ an enormous house, and I hadn't used all the bathrooms, so I wasn't completely lying.

His other eyebrow joined his first one. That did not spell out good news. No, sir. It meant that he was about to knock some sense into me. "There are five. Find one, and quit stalling." Huffing and puffing, I wrenched myself around and stomped towards the door, lagging once again and taking my sweet time in one final act of rebellion. But, of course, I wasn't allowed to win a battle of wills against Klaus Mikaelson since he would destroy an infant in a game of chess if he had the opportunity, and a casual but well-timed whack to my butt made me squeal and hurry out into the hallway.

"You're mean!" I announced, which really could have gone unsaid. The sky was blue. Water was wet. The sun was hot. Klaus was mean. It was all the same concept.

"I can be a lot meaner," he pointed out, his eyebrows still forebodingly high on his forehead. Gulping, I ducked out of his room before he could up the stakes and, I don't know, yank out a shotgun and pepper me with bullets.

Sulking, I padded down the hallway and rubbed the sting out of my butt, courtesy of the world's biggest immortal dumbass. It was only when Elijah emerged from his own bedroom that I stopped my actions cold, slightly mortified. By his knowing look and subtle smirk, he had seen - and heard, probably, considering he was only a few doors down anyway. I blushed violently. "That washroom is open," was all he said, gesturing to the one at the end of the hallway. "I will fetch Rebekah."

Aw, shit. He heard _everything_. So, not only had I blubbered like a toddler in front of him the night before, but he heard Klaus - no matter how playfully - smack me and order me around, then caught me massaging my wounded comrade, all on the path to receiving a hated bath doled out by his sister because _apparently_ I wasn't capable of cleaning myself. This was humiliating. Utterly humiliating. I decided right then and there that I was going to drop dead from embarrassment, and what a mercy it would be.

In reality, I was a total badass, but all these guys viewed me as was a dumb little kid. At least I hadn't bumped into Kol. He would have laughed in my face, probably snuck in a hit himself, and then would have teased me for the rest of eternity. Elijah wasn't much better in his own right, though. He was dignified and refined and - oh mother Mary, he was _smiling_. With his _teeth_ , in a bemused sort of way. This was the worst possible scenario. My humiliation _amused_ him.

I was close to marching back to Klaus' room and letting him plow me down with his imaginary shotgun. What did I say, you may ask, to regain the essence of my maturity and grace? Well, I'll tell ya. I didn't say anything at all. Instead, I surrendered a noise somewhere between a squeak and a cough, and sprinted past him. Literally _sprinted_ past him. Usain Bolt had nothing on me.

Klaus, who I now hated more than Umbridge and Hitler, chortled loudly from his room, evidently recognizing _exactly_ what had occurred. And, Jesus take the wheel, Elijah chuckled along with him, albeit softer. Why did the universe loathe me?

It got worse. Somehow, all of the sins I had ever committed had come back to bite me in the ass. The entirety of my blood must have traveled exclusively to my face and abandoned the rest of my body, because as I turned into the bathroom Elijah had so kindly directed me to, I crashed into the doorway. And, just my luck, the sound of Kol's boyish, wicked laughter from downstairs joined the midst of his brothers' mirth.

Slamming the door behind me, I didn't spare the time to admire the glimmering tiled floor or the sparkling porcelain toilet with a burgundy carpeted seat cover or the fancy, ornate, gold-trimmed mirror. In fact, I only glanced in the mirror long enough to notice how painfully scarlet my face was.

Beyond frustrated, I yanked a fluffy red towel from one of the racks - it was the same color as the toilet seat cover, how nice - and climbed into the empty tub after shoving aside the curtains, proceeding to snap the curtains back into place, smash my face into the bottom of the bath, and drape the towel over my head.

This was officially the worst thing that had ever happened to me, and I was an _orphan_. I wanted to join John Smith in his obituary and also drown in the bathtub. It was my time to die. I had an okay life. A bit tragic here and there, and a lot bloody, but okay.

Before I had time to reflect on my short time on this Earth, someone interrupted my dejection. "Gracie?" The door swung open, and I moaned, hoping that the trusty towel rendered me invisible. It was Rebekah. The curtains _hissed_ against the frame, and she seemed to pause at the sight of me. "Nik, you broke Gracie - she's lying on the bottom of the tub with a towel over her head!"

His resounding, boisterous laughter from somewhere further across the house ripped my soul into the void and left me as a miserable shell of who I once was. "Tell her to turn the water on!" I moaned again. It was over now. I was thoroughly deceased.

I was fairly certain Rebekah meant to _accuse_ him of doing this to me, but she only fulfilled the purpose of embarrassing me more, if it was even possible. "Oh, little love." I could hear the fat stupid smile in her voice, and it burned my ears. "They're not laughing _at_ you, they're laughing _with_ you."

Did she think I was mentally handicapped? No person in the history of the universe who had ever spouted that phrase intended it with even one iota of truth. At best, it was a flimsy white lie, but most of the time, it was a mockery. "Bullshit, I'm not even laughing," I mumbled into the towel.

"Language," Elijah called from downstairs, and I promptly burst into flames.

"Why does everyone in this house have such good hearing?" I shouted over my shoulder to nobody in particular, and at that moment, I was murdered in the afterlife as Rudy let out a lone, innocent bark. Even he could hear me. This was it. I had succumbed to the darkness. "Oh my _God_!"

"Did she just magically turn into a teenager?" Kol asked from what sounded like the kitchen area, and I heard murmured words of agreement.

Burying my face back into the towel, I loosed a muffled, unintelligible banshee screech.

"Give the girl her privacy!" Rebekah chastened her older brothers on my behalf, which I was a little thankful for, even if it would do no good. "How will she ever bring a boyfriend home when you lot act like this?"

Her teasing remark provoked the same volatile reaction as anyone and his uncle would expect it to. All three brothers responded at the same time, and it didn't take a genius to figure out who was who.

"Gracie will never date because her boyfriends will not live to see the light of dawn -"

"She's only a child, we do not need to worry about that at the present time -"

"Obviously she won't have sex under the same roof as you prudes, that's for damn sure -"

" _Kol!_ "

As a storm of bickering sparked downstairs, Rebekah shook her head and signed. "You're going to have an interesting teenage life, Gracie."

I was no oracle, but I could already foresee the future. Klaus would be the helicopter parent who kept tabs on my every move. I would be the rebellious free spirit who snuck out for a beer, or a tattoo, or another piercing - 'cause I'd have a lot - or a boy. Klaus would severely disapprove. We would argue. A lot. There would be screaming matches and door slamming and drama. And I looked forward to it, because it was so _normal._

But not now. Now, I was still lying on the bottom of the tub and pretending to be a corpse, since that's about how I felt. A pair of gentle hands scooped me from under my ribcage to guide me up to a sitting position, but since I had virtually given up on life, I assumed the limpness of a dead fish and flopped whenever she tried to adjust me. "Gracie . . ." She attempted to tug me upwards by the arms, but for all intents and purposes my arms had been replaced by noodles, and she quickly swapped strategies. "All right, then." There was a flurry of movement above me, and then out of nowhere, a gush of icy cold water poured down, rapidly soaking through the towel and my pajamas.

Gasping at the biting chill, I scrambled backwards and out of the tub, then glared at the much older blonde. " _Bekah!_ "

She was not very sympathetic. Barely giving me a chance to recover, she yanked my flannel PJ shirt over my head and made hasty work of stripping me of the rest of my layers. By then, I was freezing, so I gladly stepped back into the bathtub where the flowing water had considerably warmed, plugging it with a pout. Almost right away leftover soot and mud that had clung to my skin peeled off me and swirled away. Bekah grumbled when she noticed the water turn a murky gray and brown. "Now that won't do."

Unplugging the bath, in rapid motion she twisted the shower knob and water pelted down on me again. I scowled. "Much better," she hummed. Before my body could transform into mush again, she hauled me up and forced me to stand. "You're going to be very excited, little love."

The scowl didn't leave my face. I wasn't in the mood to feel excited. "Oh, don't look at me like that." She snatched a comb from what seemed out of nowhere and attacked my hair with it. "We're going to have a ball this week!"

Her voice raised with pitch and jubilance, and I stared at her blankly. A ball? What ball? Like one of those fancy Cinderella things? "A ball is a magnificent dance," she explained when I only continued to stare.

I exhaled hard through my nose. "I _know_ what a ball is." Her comb snagged a knot in my hair and I yowled, batting her hand away. She made a disgruntled noise from the back of her throat and disappeared for a second before returning to pile a monstrous glop of shampoo on my head. "Do I have to go?"

Her lovely features contorted with indignation, and she slapped me on the arm, taking heed not to hit me as hard as Klaus had. "Of course you do!"

I stuck out my bottom lip. "Why?"

She remained resistant to my efforts. "Because it's a ball that celebrates that our family is back together, and you're family now, so you must go."

It was nice that I was included and all, and I wouldn't deny that it made me feel a _little_ warm and fuzzy inside, but I also didn't want to go to some prissy dance. "Can't I be the redheaded step kid who lives in the attic and doesn't get invited to anything?"

She glared. Considering I had never experienced Rebekah's displeasure in any fashion, I was unprepared for the fire blazing in her eyes. It reminded me of Klaus. "You're going," she said firmly. Softening at the way I recoiled away, she tugged at a drenched lock of mine. "You could do with a distraction, couldn't you?"

I didn't think they _forgot_ about all the events of the day before, but they hadn't said anything either. I was sort of - stupidly - under the impression that they were planning to sweep my running away and burning my old house down and nightmare under the rug. Klaus hadn't mentioned it, and when I bumped into Elijah, he didn't exactly bring it up. "From what?"

She pursed her pale, supple lips. At least she didn't seem angry this time around. I didn't like when she was mad at me, I decided. It was _wrong._ She was meant to be the one always on my side, no matter what. When Klaus was bent out of shape over something, she had my back. Or she was _supposed_ to. "Grace, I think you know what I'm talking about."

I didn't, actually. She could have been yammering on about a whole bunch of stuff I did. I was pretty problematic. "Anyway," she continued, not lingering on the subject any longer than it required. "We're going to pick out a dress for you today. How does that sound?"

It sounded like a snoozefest. I hated shopping. Most of the time, I was a tomgirl, but even I appreciated a good dress every so often - that _didn't_ mean I liked to pick it out myself. I preferred when they miraculously appeared in my closet, courtesy of Samara or Keisha.

Since I was still a little miffed about being dragged to the stupid dance, I asked with innocence dripping from me in bucketloads, "Can Caroline come?"

She froze. And then she stared. Her mouth dropped open as if to speak, but snapped shut. And then she stared some more. She didn't speak for a little while. I was worried I had accidentally figured out a way to kill an Original vampire when she said tensely, "Why do you want _her_ to go?"

I might as well have told her that I wanted to join a circus or become a professional gambler when I grew up. I sucked in a deep breath, and stammered out before she could stop me, "Because I like Caroline and she has pretty hair and a nice smile and she's fun to be around and Klaus is in love with her and she has a straight nose -" One of those things was not like the others.

Since he was a busybody at heart, Klaus paused in his squabble with Kol to shout upstairs, "I am not in love with Caroline!"

"Keep tellin' yourself that!" I yelled back, and thankfully, Kol managed to remark something suitably inappropriate, which diverted Klaus' annoyance away from me and back to him. I didn't know a whole lot about sex - except for those weird videos my uncle showed me, though I didn't really understand those - but Kol seemed a bit obsessed with it.

"You don't want to spend time with me?" Rebekah questioned. Her voice was tight. Hurt. She continued to fix my hair, but it was methodical and listless.

I scrambled to right my wrong, horrified at the thought of upsetting her. "No, no, no - of course I do! I love you. I just - I just like Caroline a lot too. I-I . . . want you guys to be friends." She stared at me again, and fear rooted in my stomach when I couldn't decipher her expression. "I don't have a lot of friends. You and Klaus used to be my friends, but now you're family. Caroline's my friend. Stefan's sometimes my friend." I hated him half the time, though, so I didn't think that really counted. "That's all I got. I just - I wish you'd guys get along."

At least the outright offense had faded from her face. "I . . . I _suppose_ you can invite her along, if it truly means so much to you and you like me better than her." Her tone was insistent in uttering the last part. I almost rolled my eyes, but thought better of it. At least now I learned that Klaus wasn't the only possessive member of his family.

"I like you better than her," I assured, because if I _didn't_ say that, then World War III would've started right there in that bathroom. And, truth be told, as much affection as I carried for Caroline, Rebekah was a little higher on my list - I'd known her longer. But I still wanted - somehow, somewhere - for Caroline to become part of our dysfunctional little family.

That was all it took for her to beam like an individual ray of sunlight. Cheerily, she finished unraveling my hair and scrubbing away all the grime still stuck to my skin until I was squeaky clean. Darting away for a split second, she returned with underwear, a pretty long-sleeved light blue blouse that I had forgotten I even owned, a simple black skirt, and leggings coated in peace signs that, held in _her_ hands of all people, was so outlandishly ironic that I prepared for the solar system to implode. It didn't, but I doubted it was for lack of trying. "Here, child, you'll look wonderful in this."

I only had a moment to wonder how she had such a sound grasp on fashion when she had only recently been awakened from being locked away in a coffin for a century before she guided me out of the tub, rubbed me down swiftly with a dry towel, and all but dressed me. She even picked out my shoes for me - a pair of white high-top Converse. Like all the rest, she thought I was a friggin' toddler.

"There!" She smiled again, clapping her hands together in delight. "Pretty as a doll."

I understood her sentiment, but since I was, deep in my bones, a smartass before anything else, I reminded her, "Not all dolls are pretty. Chucky ain't pretty."

She blinked. "Who's Chucky?"

On the whole way downstairs, I explained to her in graphic detail about what monstrosity Chucky was, and by the bottom of the staircase, she looked faintly disturbed. "Who would be entertained by such a creature?"

I grinned so broadly that she took a half step back. "Wait 'till I tell you about Slenderman."

Klaus appeared from the doorway of the kitchen with a lazy smirk, leaning against one end in one of his iconic _model_ _poses_. "Now, now, sweetheart - of all the pop culture references that are paramount for Bekah to learn, Slenderman does not even make the top one hundred. Save it for a rainy day."

I was still a bit mad at him for embarrassing me, so I turned stony-faced, hoping to intimidate him - even if only a little. It did not work. He laughed in my face, somehow interpreting my motives, and the blow to my pride felt like a knife inserted right into my gut - and I _knew what that felt like_. "Oh, little girl - has anyone ever told you how adorable you are when you're pretending to be tough?"

That was _crippling_ to my eight-year-old ego. It was a miracle I managed to stay upright. "I am tough!" I all but yelled, a hidden note of distress entering my voice. I clenched my fists so hard they shook, and the bright gleam of amusement in his shining blue eyes did nothing to soothe my temper. "Take that back!"

"What are you going to do about it?" he taunted, easily rising to the challenge. "Wound me with harsh, harsh words?"

"Take it back," I repeated, utterly serious in the presence of his jests. Rebekah's fingers curled around my arm, but I shook her off, jerking away from her. No, I had to win this battle of wills. I had lost so much already - yesterday, I found out I had lost _everything._ It was stupid, and it was childish, but I couldn't lose this.

Klaus did the worst thing he possibly could have done. He scoffed. "Don't tell me you're going to cry over _this_."

Of course he would hold that against me. He was _Klaus_. When I cried on his shoulder, he would comfort me, but he would use it as ammunition later. This was why I couldn't trust him all the way. Not really. I couldn't, not when he would use my moments of weakness as weapons in a pointless, petty argument.

I must have been more on edge than I gave myself credit for, because soon enough I felt the familiar sensation of heat brewing behind my eyes and my lips curled back into a snarl. " _Take it back!_ "

Klaus's aura of mirth melted into hard granite at my unintentional display of disrespect. His own eyes flashed amber. "Take heed to whom you're speaking to, child," he growled, low and deep. "Stand down." This wasn't regular Klaus bossing me around. This was _Alpha_ Klaus giving me a command that I couldn't dare disobey. " _Now_."

Elijah popped behind Klaus in less than a second, evidently having detected the abrupt change in atmosphere. He, along with Rebekah, glanced between our tense stances and golden eyes. "Niklaus." He placed his hand on the hybrid's shoulder, who stiffened at his touch. "You are both still high-strung from the events of yesterday. Grace received devastating news; naturally, she is upset. This is not helping matters." Klaus's werewolf features faded from his face as he accepted Elijah's honest logic.

It kind of broke my heart to hear him talk about what I learned yesterday so plainly, because it reminded me that while the Mikaelsons cared about me, they didn't care a whit about my dead daddy. They didn't care that his favorite color was turquoise because it was the same color as the lake his own daddy used to take him fishing on and they didn't care that he liked to sing in the shower and they didn't care that he sacrificed _everything_ for the person he loved most in the world: me.

And it stung like hell.

My resolve thickened with the basis of this newfound conclusion. When I still didn't back down, Elijah's expression hardened. "That's enough, Grace." I didn't submit. Didn't surrender. I couldn't - not today. I wasn't a helpless little baby. They had to understand that. They _had_ to.

"I'm not goddamn weak!" I shouted, a growl tearing through my chest at the same time. Red bled across my vision in crimson splatters. I wasn't weak. I wasn't weak. _I wasn't weak._ My daddy gave up his life to make me a powerful werewolf. I had been to hell and back, and survived. I. Was. Not. Weak!

Klaus seemed bewildered by the strength and vitriol of my reaction. "I never said you were weak."

"Calm down, little love," Rebekah tried.

Elijah, meanwhile, wasn't having it. "Do not use that tone with us, child." He sounded stricter than I had ever heard him. "We are your elders by a thousand years. Take care to remember that." As if they would ever let me forget it!

And I didn't have a name anymore, apparently. Now that they were angry with me, both Klaus and Elijah had taken to calling me "child." Because that's all I was to them. A silly, dramatic, emotional child. I wanted to scream out my frustrations into the horizon. I wasn't only misbehaving for the purpose of misbehaving. Why couldn't they see that my feelings were important too?

The heat behind my eyes had long since cooled, because it wasn't possible to maintain it for long, no matter how furious I was. My glare didn't recede, though, nor my defiant posture, and those little signs must've clued them into that fact that I was still not backing down. And, of course, it didn't help when I snapped, "I don't care."

In hindsight, I suppose I was merely probing outwards and searching for my limits, trying to pinpoint how far I could push the lot of them before stumbling into a heap of trouble, but I made a fatal mistake. I knew how far Klaus could be pushed. He slapped me when I applied too much pressure, after all. He promised not do it again, but I knew that he was capable of lashing out in a way that would not bode well for me. Rebekah, meanwhile, wouldn't stray past the boundary of simple annoyance. She was too soft on me to ever become truly mad.

My fatal mistake was that I forgot about Elijah.

In the last few days, when I'd been acting out, Klaus had been my sole focus and priority. I hadn't even considered what would happen if I pushed Elijah too far. He was all about respect and manners and class, all of which I was in sore lack of. It probably shouldn't have surprised me that he would take such significant offense to my willfulness.

But I _was_ surprised when he snaked out a hand, snatched me by the bicep, and yanked me forward until I was only inches away from him. He kneeled down to my level, and I gulped at the rigid steel written across his face. As a matter of fact, I was terrified. Genuinely terrified. Because I knew what Klaus would do. I knew what Rebekah would do. But I _didn't_ know what Elijah would do.

My heart thundered in my chest like galloping hooves. I waited for Klaus and Rebekah to step in, say something, do _anything_ \- but they remained still. Finn drifted into the room too, warily - but even he stood back.

I had forgotten yet another crucial piece of information. Elijah was the pack leader here, no matter how much Klaus ranted about his strength. Elijah was the head honcho, the boss man, even though Finn was older, and I had _forgotten_.

"Grace." His voice was calm. Quiet. That was the scariest part of it. Klaus could yell and scream at me, and it rattled me, but I had no idea how to deal with this. This day was unfolding to be very, very bad. "Listen very closely." I nodded rapidly. I was tough, no matter what Klaus said, but my self-preservation was kicking in overdrive. "If you continue to throw this tantrum, then forget about the dress-shopping you have planned with Rebekah."

"Elijah -" she said shrilly, but he silenced her with a powerful look, oozing authority.

He shifted his no-nonsense gaze back to me, and I fought the overwhelming urge to cower away from him. "You are the child. We are the adults. You do not yell at us. You do not growl at us. You do not turn your eyes amber, if you can help yourself. You do not swear at us - or at all. If you are in need of expressing your feelings, then any one of us would be happy to talk with you - but just that. Talk." Somehow I didn't think Esther and Kol would cheerfully sit down and chat about my troublesome emotions over a cup of tea and scones, but I didn't dare say that to his face, not when I was this petrified. "If you utter one more syllable of disrespect this morning, then I will send you to your room for the rest of the day, in which you will only be allowed to leave to use the restroom, and your meals will be brought to you. I will do this because if you choose to act half your age, then clearly you are in dire need of a time-out."

Against my express permission, my cheeks flushed and tears sprang to my eyes. I had pushed him too far, though; my dejection was not enough to pierce his firm exterior. "Your tears will do you no good, Grace. Do you understand the consequences that will befall you if you decide to continue this childish behavior?"

I nodded mutely, stricken. But it wasn't enough for him. "I want a verbal response, please."

"Yes," I whispered shakily.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I understand." When his expression still didn't waver, I tacked on "sir" for good measure.

"Now apologize to those you shouted at." Who did I shout at again? I was so flustered that all thoughts fled my mind.

Well, I definitely yelled at _him_. "I'm sorry, 'Lijah," I murmured, and he nodded once, accepting the apology. I turned around and faced Klaus, ignoring Rebekah's general air of shock. God, it pained me to apologize to that asshole. I mean, I loved him, but Klaus was still a total asshole. I couldn't read him, though. He looked torn between surprised, impressed, and irritated - but at Elijah, not me. _Rip off the bandaid, rip off the bandaid, rip off the bandaid -_ "I'm sorry, Klaus."

"Consider it water under the bridge, sweetheart."

Elijah stood up then, and released my arm. I wanted to tuck tail and cheese it, but I was too afraid to move. "Good. Thank you very much for your cooperation, little one." And just like that, his crushing sternness transformed into his typical mild regard. Some of the fear escaped me when he smoothed a lock of damp hair out of my forehead. Relief sunk into my bones. He still liked me. He still cared about me. He even held out a hand for me to take, and I slipped my fingers into his, allowing him to lead me to the breakfast table.

I discovered for the first time what it was like to be truly verbally bitch-slapped, and let me tell you, I didn't like it. I also didn't like the smug look on Esther's face or the amused one on Kol's. At least when Finn trailed back in and fixed his mother with a hearty glare, she switched back to her usual convincing imitation of a brick wall. Finn must've reamed her out already for telling me how I was ruining their family. That pleased me greatly. _Take that, Original bitch_.

I quietly sat down at the chair Elijah guided me to and pretended that Kol wasn't all but bursting into laughter. I willed myself not to cry. Elijah was right. Tears would do me no good.

Some maid placed a plate in front of me, and I was appreciative when Rudy trotted over from where he must have been begging for bacon in the kitchen. His black and white fur gleamed - Katherine did a good job cleaning him. He rested his chin on my knees and I scratched him behind the ears.

There was a plethora of food on my plate - delicious food, too. Bacon, pancakes, strawberries, scrambled eggs. Ten minutes ago, I would've gobbled it down and had room to spare. Now, my appetite had gone to sleep with the fishes, although I did slip Rudy a small piece of bacon.

Klaus settled down at the head of the table - surprise, surprise - and Rebekah sat next to me, blanketing one of my hands with hers and sneaking me a sympathetic little smile. I stared down hard at the white little specks on my scrambled eggs, forcing away the moisture that burned at the back of my eyes.

It could be worse, I supposed. Daddy would've whipped me fifty ways to Tuesday if I had spoken to _him_ like that. My mama would have, too. I gripped my fork tightly as the thought of them cloaked my mind like a dark, menacing thundercloud. Daddy was dead and Mama was dead to me. I decided that if I ever saw her again, then I'd talk to her any way I so chose to. The woman tried to kill me. She deserved everything I had for her, and worse.

"So, Gracie." Klaus was the first to barge through the seemingly insurmountable wall of silence. "We had a very interesting discussion with Caroline last night."

I froze. What was that supposed to mean? What did she tell them? She wouldn't have retold what I spilled to her, would she? That was private. I shared my secrets with her and only her for a reason. "You did?" I faked nonchalance, biting into a slice of bacon and reveling in the satisfying crunch that followed. "About what, politics?"

Rebekah loosed a nervous giggle and Elijah offered a strained, pinched smile. Kol, Finn, and Esther appraised me with ranging shades of curiosity. I snuck a quick glare at Esther, though, since she didn't have a right to know jack shit about me. "No," Klaus drawled, down to business. "About your mother, and your uncle."

Unfortunately, as the same time as he said that, I had been guzzling orange juice to wash down the bacon, and of course, started to choke. Klaus watched me with a raised eyebrow and Rebekah thumped me on the back. Finn, on the other side of me, also slapped me on the back once it became clear that Rebekah's influence wasn't all that helpful. Thankfully, I swallowed everything, and slumped downwards, painfully exhausted. "What did she tell you?" I asked hoarsely.

Klaus clasped his hands together, a thoughtful flavor about him. His face betrayed nothing as he said, "Everything."

A tsunami of panic crashed through my system, shredding through veins and blood vessels and organs like tissue paper. My heart rate sped up, and my stomach churned. Bile crept up my throat, and for a moment, I thought I was going to lose my breakfast.

But then my logical brain kicked in. Caroline couldn't have told them the entire truth. One, she wouldn't do that to me. I _knew_ she wouldn't. And two, if she really did tell Klaus and friends the gory details - the videos my uncle made me watch, how he wanted to practice some of the moves on me, how I had to run and lock myself in the bathroom afterwards, how he banged on the door and said he'd murder me if I told, how later on he shoved me down on the kitchen floor and said gross, vile things and tried to hurt me really bad, how I had to _kill_ him before he could do much of anything, how my mama stabbed me with the same knife - then Klaus would be _furious_. They all would be. My mama would've been dead before sunrise.

"She didn't tell you everything," I said confidently, stabbing my fork into my eggs and popping them into my mouth. All sets of eyes snapped back to me, but I kept eating, now relieved that I was in the clear.

"Is that so?" Klaus murmured dangerously. I set my fork down. Regular Klaus had just become Scary Klaus. "And why do you say that?"

"'Cause you'd be a lot madder if she told you everything." If the room was silent before, then this set a new record. Every single one of them managed to read between the lines in an instant, and my phrasing was more than a little ominous. Even Rudy, who had been shamelessly begging for more bacon, mellowed. "What'd she tell you, anyhow?"

Rebekah answered this time, and her voice was unusually small. "She said that you killed your uncle on accident, and when your mother discovered the body, attacked you to the extent where you had to use your newfound werewolf healing to recover."

Dang, I figured Caroline censored it, but I didn't think she censored it _that_ much. The bit about my uncle was an outright _lie_. "I guess that's part right," I blurted before I could check myself. _Way to go, moron_ , I thought viciously. I _should've_ replied with 'Yep, that's it, I was wrong, my bad' and called it a day. Now, I sparked their suspicion, and it wouldn't simmer down until I told them the truth, which _wasn't going to happen_ , so I created an impossible situation.

Goddamn it. Sometimes _I_ forgot that I was only eight, and probably _wasn't_ as smart as I thought I was.

"Only partly right?" Elijah pressed, tilting forward slightly and making his terribly keen concern and interest well-known to all. "What part was she incorrect about?"

How did I dig myself out of this hole? Son of a _whore_. "I lied, she was right about it all," I attempted lamely.

"Oh, that's believable," Kol snorted, speaking for the first time through a mouthful of pancake. He swallowed, and smirked at me. "Excellent cover-up, darling, you should be an actress. We are all very convinced."

"We all want to help you, Grace," Finn said kindly, but I couldn't stop myself from looking past him at Esther, the one person who _absolutely_ and _beyond reason_ did not want to help me. A mean light in her cool brown eyes assured me that the very last thing she wanted to do was have a heart-to-heart. What did I ever do to her?

"Can I go now?" I pleaded, my brief spurt of appetite blinking out like a light switch.

Klaus dropped his fork on his plate, and it clattered loudly, causing me to flinch. "No. Tell us what she didn't, Grace."

All I could do was shake my head. "I wanna go."

"No," Klaus said resolutely. "Tell me what you're hiding."

I shrank into my chair. "I wanna go."

"I don't care," he snapped. "Tell me the truth."

I suddenly felt very small. "I wanna go."

"No. You are not leaving this table until you tell the truth!"

For once, Kol was my saving grace - pun intended. "Well, she isn't going to tell you _now_ ," he informed in a tone that implied Klaus was a dipshit. "Not with everyone bloody staring at her. She needs a dress, doesn't she? So does Bekah. I want to see what a department store looks like after a hundred years and I need new clothes, so obviously I'm going too." Wait, what? "Why don't you wait until this evening, when she's good and tuckered out, and ask her then?" Everyone stared at him. "Honestly," he said a little defensively. "It's common sense. It isn't my fault I'm the handsomest _and_ smartest one in the family."

* * *

So, that's why ten minutes later, Rebekah was driving a bit recklessly over to Caroline's house with Kol in the passenger seat and me in the back of Elijah's car (Klaus refused to part with his, and I think Elijah simply wanted us gone). I didn't even know Rebekah could drive. She claimed she compelled a fellow cheerleader to teach her, but based on how she was driving now, I wasn't so certain. Kol had initially wanted to drive, but Elijah had to remind him that the last time he did so he managed to crash and then blow up his car. Kol had argued that it wasn't _his_ fault; it was mine and Michael Jackson's. Nobody really knew what to say to that, so then we were off, with Bekah behind the wheel.

"This is going to be fun," Rebekah announced. "We all need a rest from the stuffiness and ugliness of the manor, don't we?"

"If by stuffiness you mean Elijah, and ugliness you mean Nik, then I wholeheartedly agree," Kol chimed in. I kept quiet in case Klaus bugged the car - I would _not_ put that past him - but I found myself agreeing. "Also, I want to see the girl that Niklaus is so infatuated with, and successfully steal her by the end of the day."

"You can't do that!" I gasped, aghast. Caroline and Klaus were meant to be together! They were Snow White and Prince Charming. Bonnie and Clyde. I couldn't really think of any more famous couples, but that didn't matter, because Klaus and Caroline were better them all anyway. And I wouldn't have Kol mucking it up!

"Watch me." Kol flashed me a smirk in the rearview mirror.

I opened my mouth to screech at him when Rebekah pulled by Caroline's house. She hadn't even needed my directions, either. How did she know where it was? Did she keep tabs on all of her enemies in order to put hits on them when the time was right? If that was the case, then Elena had better watch her back _real_ close. "Caroline!" Bekah called out her window, mashing on the horn. "Caroline, get your perky blonde ass out here!"

This was about to get really weird if Caroline wasn't even there, but sure enough, the perky blonde peeked out her front door, her jaw dropping open at the sight of us. She was covered in a silky lavender bathrobe, and her hair was dripping wet. "Rebekah?! What - what are you _doing_ here? It's a Sunday!"

"Hi, Caroline!" I chirped out my own window, and she waved tentatively. "We're going dress-shopping. Wanna come?"

"I . . . _what_?"

"Honestly, darling," Kol piped up, sounding bored already. "It isn't a difficult concept to grasp. They're going to dress-shopping. They want you to come. Ergo, you're coming."

If it were possible, Caroline's jaw might've unhinged completely and fell to her porch. "Wha . . . who _are_ you?"

"Kol Mikaelson, at your service," he introduced with a flirty grin.

"We're hosting a ball in a few days," Rebekah explained, drumming her fingers outside her car door impatiently. "I must find a dress, Grace must find a dress, and I still don't know why Kol's here -"

"I want to see what a department store looks like after a hundred yea-"

"Anyway," she continued, smoothly cutting him off. "Gracie wanted you to come, presumably so you can pick out a dress too. So put on some bloody clothes, and get in the bloody car."

Caroline lost her previous trepidation and confusion, and crossed her arms with an audible huff. "Why should I pick out a dress to a ball I haven't been invited to?"

"Klaus is gonna invite you," I assured her. I mean, he didn't really have a choice anymore, and if he _didn't_ invite her, I would break his hybrid neck. "So, if you accept, you're gonna need a dress, and we're gonna buy some dresses, so it only makes sense that you come."

"I . . ." She threw her hands up in the air. "Well, obviously I can't refuse."

"Not really," I giggled.

"Nope," Bekah said flippantly.

"You can't say no to one Mikaelson, let alone three," Kol mused.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Caroline muttered. "Whatever, give me fifteen." And with that, she stomped and grumbled her way back into her house.

Meanwhile, I gawked at the back of Kol's head. Did he - did he just call me a Mikaelson? Without vomiting in his mouth? Intentional or not, I was flattered. More than flattered, really. I was earnestly touched. And so, I unbuckled my seatbelt, and leaped forward with a squeal of jubilance, throwing my arms around his neck. "What the bloody _fu_ -"

"Kol!" Bekah chided, smacking him on the shoulder. "Be nice."

"Thanks, Kol," I murmured, snuggling my face into the crook of his neck and all but purring. Awkwardly, he patted me on the head, and to his credit, he only cringed a little bit when I smooched him on the cheek.

"Yes, yes, I'm very loveable. Now unhand me, child, before I acquire fleas."

* * *

 **Klaus's Perspective**

Klaus sat very still on the couch inside of his study, nursing his usual glass of bourbon. He awaited Elijah's entry. Once Grace, Rebekah, and Kol left the manor - he still didn't understand why Kol wanted to join him, since as far as he knew, Kol didn't even like little Gracie - Klaus told Elijah under no uncertain terms that they would be meeting to discuss what happened before breakfast.

Grace's dog had padded in a few minutes before, and stationed himself by his side, curling up near the couch. He was attracted to Klaus's wolf, likely. Without conscious thought, he combed his fingers through the canine's thick fur. The mongrel was quite striking now, he had to admit, now that he was clean, and Klaus didn't mind his presence any longer, especially that a maid was compelled to take care of his needs. In fact, as the dog peeked at him with happy ice-blue eyes, something of a smile curved up the corners of his lips.

Elijah glided into the room next, appearing entirely unrepentant, and his smile dissolved into a scowl. "What would you like to discuss, brother?" Elijah asked lightly, pouring himself a glass of bourbon and settling on the chair opposite him.

"I was thinking we could speak about how you wholly overstepped your boundaries." Klaus waited for his brother's countenance to alter, searched closely for an infusion of anxiety or remorse, but he didn't find even a morsel of it.

"Do you not think it was deserved?" Elijah said calmly, sipping at his drink as if he had all the time in the world and none of the troubles.

Klaus was unsure of the correct answer to that pointed question. He was perfectly aware that he had provoked the child, prodded at deep-set insecurities that he hadn't noticed until that conversation. He would do well to observe more carefully in the future. Her reaction had been unusually volatile, and yes, she was disrespectful, and yes, she had challenged him - challenged his wolf - but it hadn't bothered him much. He was irritated, but she also irritated him on a regular basis. He had grown used to her uncanny ability to dig under his skin.

Then Elijah had stepped in, and dressed her down so thoroughly that Klaus had expected her to burst into tears then and there. The vivid recollection of the horrid mixture of shock and fear and embarrassment on her innocent little face was enough to make him want to throw his glass at his older brother's head - or shove it down his throat.

"No, I do not," Klaus replied, but he was not telling the complete truth. He tolerated her disrespect before, when she was nothing more than a little comrade, but now that she was his fosterling and soon-to-be adopted daughter, the standards were different. In fact, he was uncertain on what he _would_ tolerate now; it had been two centuries since he had to raise a child. "For the most part," he allowed grudgingly.

"I disagree," Elijah said simply, and Klaus's blood boiled.

"Oh, do you now?" Klaus set his glass aside with a violent _click_ before it could shatter between his fingers. Rudy whimpered at the noise, and Klaus's fingers, _involuntarily_ , of their own accord, touched the dog's ears to calm him. "Well, fortunately for me and unfortunately for you, it isn't your decision. She will become my daughter, not yours, so it isn't your decision on how she should be disciplined!" By the end of his spiel, his voice had elevated to a harsh shout, but Elijah remained unfazed. Rudy, however, trotted from the room with his tail between his legs, and Klaus felt a faint twinge of contrition.

"And how do you think she should be disciplined, Niklaus?" Elijah pondered, and Klaus internally stewed, knowing exactly where this was headed. "Because, I believe, that if the choice were up to you she would not be disciplined at all."

He had a point, although Klaus would never admit so aloud. Disciplining Grace was different than disciplining Marcellus had been. Perhaps it was because Marcel was a boy and older when Klaus met him, and Grace was a scrawny little girl, but it _had_ been easier to handle Marcel. It was similar, in a vein, to his own family dynamics; whether he meant to or not, he was easier on Rebekah than on any of his brothers. It was difficult to stay angry with Gracie when she peered up at him with those wide, curious ocean-blue eyes and her nose scrunched in consternation and she smirked in her spunky, childish way.

"She's more delicate than she leads anyone to believe," Klaus eventually said, swiftly avoiding his brother's direct accusation. "Her feelings are easily bruised, and today, _you_ hurt her feelings." A hot lance of fury spiked through his torso, and his wolf howled in tandem, urging him to rip out Elijah's esophagus in response for wounding his little wolf cub.

It was true, though. Despite how she viewed herself, she was more delicate than Marcel ever was. He had witnessed her shed more tears in a little over a month and a half than he had seen Marcel cry in the century he knew him for.

Finally, a shadow of regret flickered across Elijah's otherwise impassive features. "I did not intend to hurt the child's feelings, but -"

"We were never so severe with Marcellus when he was a child," Klaus interrupted, although there was another side to that coin. Marcel had been a sweet, meek child, conditioned to be obedient after a childhood of slavery. It was only after years of love and support that Marcel sprang free of his shell. Grace also had a traumatic childhood - and he was convinced that there was much more that she wasn't telling him, because she practically admitted so herself, and he planned to find out - but she wasn't what one might call a _sweet_ child. She was a little spitfire - witty, brash, and occasionally rude. He loved that about her, but he supposed that, at times, it could lead to . . . issues.

Elijah arched a knowing brow, and voiced exactly the train of thoughts that was dragging reluctantly through Klaus's quick mind. "Marcellus was nowhere near as impudent as Grace is now, and you know that. And besides, I recall you lamenting that, had you been harder on him, he would not have been so willing to defy your wishes and lust after Rebekah."

Klaus had said that. Many times. He had mentioned on several instances that he regretted not supplying the boy with more stringent discipline, because if he had, then he would not have so carelessly gone behind Klaus's back to seduce his little sister. His sister, of course, was a player in the game herself, and that was why he had daggered her instead of killing Marcel, but the outcome was the same.

"Well, I'm not worried about Grace growing up and lusting after Rebekah," Klaus remarked. He didn't care in the slightest how her sexuality would unravel, but Grace already viewed Bekah as something of a mother figure, and that would not change with age. "Now, if she goes after Kol in ten years then we can think back to this moment and regret everything." If Kol ever showed even a smidgen of interest towards his Gracie, even after she was well and grown, he would be daggered for the next millennium and he would find a suitable tower to lock the girl in.

Elijah did not find Klaus's throwaway comment amusing. "And what about a week from now, brother? A month, or a year from now? If you continue to allow her misbehavior to slide, then she will turn into a little monster."

Klaus did not prefer to think about that. Grace could never be a monster. Not like them. Not like him. "You say misbehavior, I say mischief."

"Niklaus." Klaus rolled his eyes, snatched his drink back, and downed the rest of it, focusing on the scorching sensation trickling down the back of his throat. "You said yourself that you want to adopt this child, and bring her into the family." He was correct. It was a little trickier to navigate in the twenty-first century, but Klaus would surely find _someone_ he could compel into making the process happen. All he needed to do was find said person, and it was smooth sailing from there. "When you do that, she will be your daughter, and you will be her father."

"I know what adoption entails," Klaus snapped, not in the mood - not that he ever was - to be patronized by his suit-toting brother.

But Elijah was shaking his head, an almost rueful, humorless smile playing at his lips. "I don't think you _do_ , brother. You will need to love and comfort her, and for the most part, miraculously, you have become sufficient at that," a growl grumbled in Klaus's chest at his implication, "and when she speaks to you tonight about her mother and uncle, I'm certain you will provide appropriate solace, but you will also need to teach her and discipline her and guide her in the future. Can you do that?"

"Yes!" Klaus snarled, beyond infuriated by his brother's endless doubts in his capabilities and character.

"Then _do it_." Klaus opened his mouth to hiss something rather unkind in reply, but closed it before he could. As much as it pained him to acknowledge it, Elijah was right. Grace was a handful, and he couldn't be passive with her, or she would spiral down a dark path. "I shouldn't have _had_ to discipline her today, Niklaus. _You_ should have stepped in before I did. But I did, and I will do so in the future if the need arises - and with her, the need will arise - because I care about her. I've known her for only a short time, but I do care about her, because she is my family now, too." It seemed now that with every word - every syllable - that poured from his brother's lips, an invisible fist restricted around his throat, around his heart. "Do you know what you need to be, brother?"

Klaus's fearsome resolve had dissipated. Elijah was right, and he knew what he needed to be. He knew it with every inch of his being. But still, he said wearily, "And what is that?"

"Be a _parent_."

* * *

 **Grace's Perspective**

"I am unimpressed."

"You haven't seen anything yet, brother, we're in the bloody parking lot."

I wistfully eyed a truck rolling through the aisle and imagined launching myself under it. The car ride to the mall - outside of Mystic Falls, thank heavens - was _interesting_ , to say the least. Rebekah and Caroline still didn't get along that well, but it was almost as if they had formed a temporary truce for my sake. Caroline was tense at first, and irked that she was forced to join us, but lightened up after twenty minutes or so and even exchanged a few smiles with Rebekah through the rearview mirror after I said something they apparently considered cute. Kol, meanwhile, was torn between flirting with an unreceptive Caroline and insulting everyone else in the car. He and Bekah bickered the _entire way there,_ although occasionally one of them spouted a quip that made Caroline and I laugh.

Kol sighed dramatically. "If the inside isn't more exciting than the outside, I'm going on a massacre and nobody can stop me."

Caroline struck me as a girl with clearly defined morals, considering she bashed Klaus left and right for his violent tendencies, but she must've decided to relax because she said glibly, "Kol, if the mall itself isn't more interesting than this parking lot, then I'll join you." She readjusted the straps of her form-fitting, knee-length violet dress and fixed me with a bright smile. "But thankfully, it is!"

When we walked towards the entrance, it occurred to me that if there was a random soul in the parking lot who, say, knew the Originals, then it'd be quite an odd sight to see Kol reaching past Caroline to pull at Rebekah's hair and Bekah stomping her foot when she attempted to swat at him but he darted out of reach and Caroline mumbling angrily when Kol bumped into her while trying to escape Belah's wrath and me rolling my eyes so hard and often it was a blessing they didn't fall out of my skull. When Kol made me stumble in his avoidance of Bekah, I punched him in the gut - he didn't budge a millimeter - and I realized that I _belonged_ here.

"Kol, will you give me a piggyback ride?" I asked once we'd entered the mall. It wasn't that I was tired already or my feet were sore - I was a werewolf, after all - but I liked to feel tall and I wanted to cement our newfound relationship before he started to hate me again.

He snorted. "No."

Rebekah and Elijah were relatively immune to my sulk (Klaus hadn't gotten there yet), but there was no guarantee Kol was, so I gave it my best shot. "Pleeeeaaaase?"

"No."

"Pretty please with a cherry on top?"

"I don't even like cherries."

"Who doesn't like cherries?"

"You're not getting a piggyback ride with _that_ attitude."

"Pretty please without a cherry on top?"

"That's no different than a regular please."

"Pretty please with a fresh dead body on top? It has your favorite blood type." Did vampires have a favorite blood type? I wondered if they tasted any different. Some had more protein than others, didn't they? I learned that in science class once.

"That is _so_ gross," Caroline said with a crinkle of her nose.

"Welcome to the Mikaelson family, enjoy your stay and there are no refunds," Rebekah wisecracked. Caroline didn't quite laugh, but her smile was threaded with humor, and for a second, she seemed perfectly comfortable among my foster family, as though she had known them her whole life.

Kol stared at me for what felt like a very long time. "Fine, darling, hop on." Shrieking in victory, I torpedoed myself onto his back with a speed and strength Superman would be jealous of, and clung onto him like a spider monkey. "You know," he said conversationally. "I have mostly enjoyed my time on this Earth, but there are certain moments where I must ask myself, how have I fallen _so far_? And Grace?"

"Yeah?"

"This is one of those times."

I hummed, content. "I'm okay with that."

"Of course you would be, you deranged little mongrel."

"That's the nicest thing you ever said to me," I teased. I really was becoming a Mikaelson, wasn't I? My skin was thicker than it used to be. If someone called me that two months ago, I would've been spitting and kicking. But now, it was more like a term of affection.

"I aim to please." I didn't even have to see his face to sense his devious grin. "Take notes, Caroline, I wouldn't want to forget _your_ pleasure."

She face-palmed. "Seriously?!"

* * *

"What color do you think my dress should be, Gracie?" Bekah questioned while holding mine up and admiring it in the fluorescent light. It was nice, I supposed. It was a bright lavender number that contained lace on the top half and the short sleeves, accented by a silk strip of fabric that coiled around my waist, shaping into a skirt that ballooned out and stopped at my ankles. I was indifferent about the affair, but both Rebekah and Caroline flipped out over it, gushing and cooing in what I assumed was a foreign language of nonsense. It _did_ make me look like a princess, though.

"I dunno. Brown?"

Rebekah and Caroline exchanged a horrified look. Brown was not the correct answer. "Gracie, sweetie," Caroline said gently, patting me on the head like one might a misguided dog. "Why don't you sit on that bench over there while we pick out our dresses?"

I was being exiled. I would have been extremely offended in any other circumstance, if I had actually _wanted_ to be there in the first place. Still, considering I figured I'd be able to cash their mild neglect in for a hefty prize later, I sulked and stomped over to the bench. Plopping onto it, I crossed my arms and slumped down as far as I could go. Both blondes looked like they were tempted to roll their eyes at my dramatics, but didn't. "We won't be too long, Gracie!" Bekah appeased, but I only slid lower down the bench in response. "There's no reasoning her when she's like this," she said as Caroline made tracks to join me. "She's quite the stubborn one."

"Sod off," I muttered, a phrase I'd picked up from one of the Mikaelsons at some point, but I couldn't remember which. Kol, probably. Where was he, anyway? He mentioned he was going to eat somebody, but I wasn't sure if he meant it _literally_ or not.

After vowing to keep an eye on me, the two girls disappeared into the aisles of gowns, and my pout faded. A good thing it did, too, because it was precisely that moment that I met who would be my best friend in the whole wide world for the very first time.

He was a scrawny boy, around my age. His forest green hoodie was a size too big for his frame and threatened to hang off his shoulders. Dangling into his eyes was a flop of jet-black curls, which framed a round, elvish face. A pair of square-rimmed glasses were perched on his nose. His skin was a rich, deep caramel - I pegged him from somewhere in Central Asia, like India, even though I wasn't great at geography.

In one hand, he was holding a Nintendo DS, and in the other, he was towing a tiny, toddling girl with similar ebony curls and sparkling brown eyes. She was no more than four or five years old, and her mouth was stained with chocolate ice cream from where she licked at a cone that was dribbling down her wrist.

"Can I sit here?" the boy asked me. His accent surprised me. I wasn't really sure what I was expecting, but he sounded a little like Klaus and his siblings. British. Except they weren't even British, which still didn't make sense to me at all. His accent was thicker than theirs, anyway. Harsher compared to the lilting tones of the Mikaelsons.

"Yeah, okay," I replied, scooting down to one end of the bench to make room for the both of them. Turns out, that wasn't even necessary, because the little girl ended up settling happily on the floor with her ice cream. I couldn't help but feel a little jealous. If Elijah caught me sitting on the floor in some public venue I think he would actually murder me then and there with his bare hands.

He muttered something to the little girl in a language I didn't understand, and she grudgingly scrubbed at her face with a crumpled napkin before returning to her sugary treat. Rolling his eyes, he flipped open his Nintendo DS, resuming some game or another. Bored and endlessly curious, I couldn't help but peek over his shoulder. "Whatcha playing?" I asked after a moment or two of silence.

"Mario Kart," he said, his forehead creased in concentration. "I always do really badly on this level." Sure enough, his cart drove straight off the rainbow path it was cruising on and he grumbled under his breath about the game being rigged. The race ended soon after with him in last place, and he huffed before holding it out to me. "Want to try?"

I shrugged, accepting it from him. "Sure." Hesitantly, staring at the screen with utterly no idea what to do, I asked, "Uh, how do I play?"

His shiny black eyebrows furrowed together. "Have you never played Mario Kart before?" He made it sound like it was some crime. When would I have played it? After I turned into a wolf and my daddy dragged me all over the place, or after he died and I was kidnapped by Klaus? Seeming to read my surely displeased expression, he brushed it off. "Here, it's not that hard."

After explaining which buttons to push, he switched me to an easier level and let me start it off. I crashed a few times and all of the other carts threw random crap at me, but I got the hang of it after a round or two. It was kind of fun, actually. It made me realize that I wish I had more electronic goodies in the Mikaelson household. I still couldn't believe Klaus wouldn't even get me a TV _._ Just because they roamed around with dinosaurs at one point in time didn't mean they couldn't embrace the modern age. Well, _they_ did, with all their phones and fancy-smancy cars, but they wouldn't let _me_ have any of it.

Selfish _jerks_.

"Thanks, that was cool," I said after winning third place on the beach course, handing him back his game.

"You don't sound like you're from around here," he observed, shutting the DS instead of resuming his own playing. I raised my eyebrows. _I_ didn't sound like I was from around here? _He_ was the one who sounded like he had just finished eating fish and chips with the queen after zipping around in the TARDIS! "You sound southern."

"We're in the South," I drawled. Where did he think Virginia was, anyhow? Canada?

He rolled his eyes again. "No, you sound more southern than everyone else does." I had to give him that. Most people from Mystic Falls had fairly bland, standard American accents. Mine had a distinct twang in comparison, although it wasn't as thick as some backcountry folk I met from Mississippi. Now _that_ was a southern accent. My daddy was a bit of a redneck, but even he was taken aback by them.

"That's 'cause I'm from the South," I replied, speaking slowly, as if he were a raging idiot who didn't understand shit. "You sound British."

"That's because I'm from Britain," he countered, matching my tone word for word. I sneered. "Here's a deal. I'll tell you where in Britain I'm from if you tell me where in the South you're from."

What could it hurt? "Memphis," I said shortly. I'd lived there for a long time, anyway, even if I wasn't born there. He stared at me blankly. He'd never heard of it before, obviously. "Tennessee." Only a vague flicker of recognition lit up his face. He hadn't heard much about Tennessee either, apparently.

"I'm from Manchester," he explained. I had utterly no idea where that was. In fact, the only city in Britain I really knew about was London. Liverpool too, I guess, but only because of the Beatles. "It's in northern England?" Still wasn't ringing any bells. Did I mention how bad I was at geography? It sounded all high and mighty, though. _Man-_ ches _-_ ter _._

"Are you some fancy lord from some fancy castle?" I asked with a heavily exaggerated English accent, grinning as he scowled thunderously.

"Really, you're from the South, and _you're_ making jokes?" It was my turn to scowl now, and he snickered at me.

I waggled my finger in his face. "Listen here . . ." Biting my lip, I faltered. "I don't know your name."

"My name's Rohan." He nudged the little girl on the back with his sneaker, and wrinkling her nose, she swatted his foot away. "This is my baby sister, Kaira." The kid, after finishing off her waffle cone, waved at me with sticky fingers. "She's shy." Smiling faintly, I waved back. He rolled his eyes for the third time in about fifteen minutes. "My big sister dragged us along with her on some stupid shopping spree. I swear, she goes bonkers about clothes."

I nodded in pained commiseration. "I know, right? It sucks a whole lot. My aunt made me come." Remembering my manners, I added, "I'm Grace." Immediately forgetting my manners, I said, "Can I call you Ro?"

He gave me a tired look that screamed 'done.' "What's it with people wanting to make nicknames for every Indian name ever?" he complained. "My name's not Voldemort, you can say it."

I jutted out my chin proudly. "I'd say your name if it _was_ Voldemort. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself," I quoted, and he grinned. "So, I can't call you Ro?"

"If you call me Ro, then I have to call you Ace," he informed me.

I furrowed my brow, not following his path of reasoning. "What, why?"

He smirked, and for an instant, it was like gazing into a mirror. "If you can't make yourself pronounce two syllables, then I can't handle your name either. The "Gr" is just too hard. So, if you can't say _Rohan,_ I can't say Grace."

I narrowed my eyes. He was a snarky little shit. Was this what other people felt like around me all the time? Suddenly I had a lot more sympathy for everyone who was forced to deal with me on a daily basis. "Ace isn't even a nickname for Grace."

"Ro isn't a nickname for Rohan, but here we are."

Huffing, I crossed my arms and glanced away from his stupid smug face, only to see his little sister staring up at us in rapt fascination. I remembered when I was around her age; I'd always wanted to loiter around the older kids. In my eyes, they were the coolest things to bless the earth since sliced bread and Elvis. The fact that she was looking at me the same way I looked at them fluffed my feathers a little bit. I was so sick and tired of being the _baby_ , surrounded by people who were over a thousand years older than me. But here, for her, _I_ was the cool older kid.

It was gratifying.

"When did you move to Mystic Falls, anyway?" I asked, changing the subject but still planning on calling him Ro, since he had essentially declared war. His accent was too thick for him to have been here long. Kids lost their accents pretty quick.

The flickering light in his playful brown eyes dimmed. "We've only been here a couple of weeks. My dad died three months ago." His lower lip wobbled and his scowl returned to his features, except it was darker this time. "We had to move." Something told me he was more than a _little_ bitter about that. The little girl also lost her cheerful spark, and she deflated at the mention of her dad's death, dragging her fingertips along the floor. My heart ached for the both of them. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me," I challenged. "My daddy died almost two months ago." His eyebrows shot up his forehead, and his lips parted. He seemed awfully surprised. "What happened to yours?"

"He was murdered," he said, tilting away from me only to glare off into the distance.

"My daddy was murdered too." If possible, his surprise skyrocketed. "Why'd you come to Mystic Falls?"

"We wanted to go to New Orleans first," he responded, and now _I_ was a bit surprised. Once upon a time, that had been the Mikaelsons' crib. Klaus raved and raved about it. There was a bunch of art and music and culture there, supposedly. I'd never seen it, but Klaus sure made it tempting. "We heard it was good for . . ." His eyes flitted from side to side. "People like us."

My brain temporarily shut off. "What, British?"

His previous grin arrived back, and his amusement chased off the lingering grief from his expression. "No. You wouldn't understand." There he went, saying that again. I bet I would understand, whatever he meant. "It doesn't matter, anyway. There was someone there who made it . . . hard for us to stay. He doesn't want people like us around." He shook his head angrily. "His name's Marcel, and he's a real tosser."

Marcel? I'd never heard of him. The only Marcel that sprung to mind was Ross's pet monkey from _Friends._

The little girl spoke for the first time. "He was mean to Mum." Her eyes gleamed and her nose scrunched with childish resentment at the memory of it, like if he were in front of her at this very instant she would tear him to shreds.

"My big sister called him every name in the book," Rohan recalled with barely concealed delight. "He went to attack her, but she shut him down fast. Then we left, because we don't want to be where we aren't wanted."

He went to _attack_ her? If I didn't know better, Marcel sounded like a vampire. No regular person could force others to leave a city, as if he or she owned the place. That _screamed_ vampire. Because, for one, it was something Klaus would do in a heartbeat. But why would a vampire want his family gone from New Orleans?

I was too curious to let this go. "Was Marcel . . ." I scanned the area to ensure nobody was listening. Bekah and Caroline had disappeared to parts unknown, although ever so often I saw a flash of blonde hair, and knew that they were keeping tabs on me. ". . . the _v_ -word?"

Rohan's eyes swelled as large and wide as moons. "How - how do you know what that is?"

"A vampire?" There was no one else around, and I had to make sure we were talking about the same thing. It would've been kind of awkward if we weren't. If I was talking about a vampire, and he was talking about a violinist, that would be unfortunate. However, he nodded ferociously. "I've met a bunch of 'em. Some of 'em like me. Some of 'em don't. "

"Are - are you . . . ?" His voice was strangled, and he flicked his hands into futile gestures as he attempted to verbalize what he wanted to say. "Like me?" He pointed at his little sister, who was watching with equally wide eyes. "Like us?"

I doubted it. Considering I was - as far as any of us knew - the only living child werewolf, then there was no way either of them shared the same characteristics. Also, I didn't even know what they were. "I'm kind of in my own category," I hedged. "What are you, anyway?"

He gnawed on his lip until it pinched and blanched white. For whatever reason, he was worried. Anxious. "My mum said I can't tell people." He sounded like he _wanted_ to tell, though. Something in his expression shifted, then, and he appeared mildly accusatory. "You know vampires. If I tell you, you could tell them."

I scoffed, and waved off his concern. "I won't tell them. I like having secrets. They don't need to know. Plus, I'll tell you what I am if you tell me what you are."

That did him in. Obviously, he already was itching to spill the beans, but this pushed him over the edge. He scooted forward and cupped his hands around the side of my head, whispering so closely his breath tickled my ear, "I'm a warlock." He backed off, looking vaguely sickened, like I was about to use this information against him.

Kaira, having guessed what he whispered to me, chirped cheerily, "I'm a witch!"

He shushed her furiously, making her flinch, and his panic only heightened. "Oh God, oh God, I shouldn't have said anything, I'm such an _idiot_ -"

"I'm a werewolf," I said simply, to get him to shut up. His worry visibly lessened, and he cocked his head, befuddled. His corkscrew black curls danced with the movement. "I know, I know. I'm sort of special." Sobering, I murmured, "I get it. I really do. I'm different too."

I was a little put off that Rebekah or Caroline hadn't immediately jumped out of the woodworks to warn me against sharing my secret identity - clearly they weren't paying as close attention to me as they said they would. I could've been _kidnapped_ for God's sake.

Rohan opened his mouth to speak, when, out of nowhere, Kol strutted forward. Of all the times he had to pick to come back, it had to be _now_. There was a droplet or two of blood on his collar, I noticed with horror. Would Rohan or his sister see it? I mentioned that I _knew_ vampires, not that I _lived_ with them.

What if he got spooked, grabbed his little sister, and abandoned me? I didn't have any friends my own age. Finally, I met someone and he was a freak just like me. I didn't even realize how lonely I was until Rohan came marching dowm, tugging Kaira along. A kind of terrified desperation shot through my veins. This - this couldn't be _it._ I needed a friend - _so badly_.

I didn't have time to form any last-minute decisions before Kol arrived, his sharp, perceptive gaze flitting between the bench's new inhabitants. "And who do we have here?" he asked smoothly, betraying no curiosity or suspicion.

I couldn't tell if it was their magic or intuition, but both kids stiffened in Kol's presence, like they sensed that he was dangerous. "This is Rohan," I said once it because clear that neither of them were planning on uttering a syllable. "And this is his little sister, Kaira. They're . . . they're my new friends."

I didn't miss the way absolute glee filled every pore of the little girl's being. I didn't blame her. If one of the older kids had declared me their friend when I was younger, I would have been beside myself with joy. Even Rohan perked up a little.

Kol's eyebrows crept up his forehead. He checked his watch and breathed out a laugh. "I've been gone for all of forty-five minutes."

I smirked up at him. "I work fast."

Surprisingly, he offered an amused smirk in return. Most of the time, he seemed irritated by my presence, but there were a couple rare moments where I managed to spew something clever that tickled him somehow. This was one of those moments, and it was _glorious_. "Do you now? Give or take seven years, that'll drive Nik batty."

I thanked the heavens that Kol, for whatever reason, didn't use Klaus's full name. Rohan and Kaira _were_ witches, after all, and Klaus was kind a big deal in the supernatural world. There was a solid chance they had heard of him before, and an equally solid chance he, at one point, had killed someone they loved. It could've been _Klaus_ who killed their father, for all I knew. He did like killing people.

"This is Kol," I told the siblings once I remembered that I forgot to introduce him too. "He's . . . my foster uncle." Much to my shock, he didn't even grimace. A few days ago, he might've choked a little bit, but now he seemed to have grudgingly accepted the circumstances. " _Nik_ is my foster dad."

"Oh, okay," Rohan said awkwardly, because really, what do you say in reply to that?

"Have you already landed yourself a dash of romance, Grace?" Kol mused, his impish grin showing his humor. "Nik will be furious."

Rohan made a noise like a dying walrus, and I spluttered to rectify the situation. "N-No, we're - we're just - nothing happened, we were just - just talking -"

"Gracie, _relax_ ," he urged, and I was too panicked to notice that he had called me by my nickname for the first time. His grin sharpened and widened at the same time, and he jerked a thumb in Kaira's direction. "I was talking about her, obviously."

I saw the way the little girl was gazing up at him with lightly red cheeks, and stifled a moan of objection. "You're so pretty," she said outright, and Rohan groaned, hiding his face in his hands. So much for being shy.

Kol appeared amused again. "Why thank you." This was another problem with living with the Mikaelsons. They were all _so good-looking._ Elijah looked like he won some contest for the "most eligible bachelor," Klaus looked like he stepped out of a male fashion magazine, Kol looked like a handsome elf from _Lord of the Rings_ , and Rebekah looked like she belonged on a runway in Paris. Finn was attractive too, and Esther wasn't _ugly_. Not physically ugly, at least. She was a hideous shrew on the inside.

That was when Rohan's older sister showed up, and my jaw dropped to the tiled floor. Rohan was sort of cute, in a dorky kind of way, and Kaira was admittedly adorable, but their older sister was legitimately gorgeous. Why was everyone so hot? It was like they were _casted._

Anywho, she was no more than nineteen, and her angled, sharp-cornered face was symmetrical and well-structured, accented with smokey eye makeup that made her look all mysterious - or at least I thought so. The navy blue leather jacket was a nice touch. Billows of black hair tumbled down past her shoulders to her slim waist, and a short pleated skirt revealed deeply tan, toned legs. But most of all, she radiated _confidence._ With every step, her chin was held high and her posture was perfectly straight. She knew she was pretty.

I could've predicted how the future would unfold, but I didn't. She was a witch. And by the tingles that skated across my skin and the soft tug in my gut, she was a strong one. She had, without realizing it, entered the company of a Mikaelson. One who, from what Klaus mentioned, had a fondness for witches. Of course the family's first instinct, once her identity was discovered, would be to use her.

I didn't see it then. But what I _also_ didn't see was that Aashiya Suresh did not like to be used, and that she would become a valuable player in the complicated game the Mikaelsons managed to weave together of her own merit and her own choice. If I had been able to envision what would happen, I would've warned her - all of them - to flee from the Mikaelsons' pull before she even had a chance to orbit. Because when some poor sap becomes entangled with the Mikaelsons, there's no breaking free. I understood that. Caroline was beginning to understand it too. And this girl would know it soon enough.

Ten years from now, I would foster more than a few regrets. But meeting the Suresh family could never be one of them, because my life was better off with them in it. It was selfish, sure, but it was a truth I wasn't willing to part with.

Back in present time, the girl's determined pace faltered at the sight of us. "Didn't I leave only two of you?" Her accent was different than Rohan or Kaira's. There was the same British twist to her words, but an undercurrent of something else. Indian, maybe? I hadn't met many Indian folks before, but she sounded a bit like them.

"Well, it's been three years since then," Rohan quipped, "things changed."

Smirking, she flicked him on the temple and set her clothes-stuffed bag next to Kaira, ruffling her hair as she did so. "This is Grace," Rohan sighed. "She's my new friend." He pointed at the now grinning Kol. "And that's Kol, her foster uncle."

"It's a pleasure," Kol simpered, sticking out a hand for her to shake. I wrinkled my nose. _Groooooss._ He was flirting with her. "Now, you know my name, it's only fair that I learn yours. I'm sure a beautiful girl such as yourself has an equally beautiful name to match."

Did that line normally work for him? "Does that line normally work for you?" Dark, jewel-like eyes raked him up and down. "Never mind, I bet it does. Wonderful," she deadpanned. Still, one corner of her mouth twitched upward, and she slipped her hand into his. "My name is Aashiya. Family and friends call me Aashi. So you can call me Aashiya."

In a deft move, he drew her hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss on the back of it. To her credit, she didn't even blush. In fact, her face didn't change at all, except a vague ripple of some odd emotion I didn't recognize. I couldn't help be a little impressed. As far as I knew, resisting Kol's charms was the equivalent of a superpower. "Aashiya," he repeated. "As I said, beautiful name for a beautiful girl."

She shrugged, and tapped her head with her index finger as if she had a worthwhile point to prove. "You must be glad my name wasn't Ugly Warthog."

Kol blinked. He was usually the one who spouted some outrageous statement that made the other uncomfortable. ". . . Yes, I suppose I am."

"See?" She smiled widely, bearing enough teeth to outdo a shark. "Small blessings." Apparently finished with Kol, whose stare lingered on her, she shifted her attentions onto me. "So, you're my baby brother's new friend? That's nice. He doesn't make friends easily."

I giggled as Rohan paled. "That's not true."

"Mm, it is."

His hands rolled into fists. "No, it isn't!"

"Then name all of your friends for me. Imaginary ones don't count." Rohan looked about three seconds from morphing into the Hulk and pounding her into the ground. "Caroline?"

Caroline and Rebekah marched forward, the former with an easy grin and the latter with a wary, watchful quality etched into her stance. "Aashiya!"

Caroline knew everyone. How did Caroline know everyone? Was she some kind of prophet? "Rebekah, this is Aashiya, she's new at Mystic High. I'm _endeavoring_ to convince her to try out for the cheer team, since Sarah isn't staying on, but -"

"I reminded her that cheerleaders have a certain reputation at that school, and I don't need another reason for people to judge me on top of all of the others they scrounge up," Aashiya finished. "Nice to meet you."

Rebekah regarded her coolly, brushing off her greeting. "I'm a cheerleader." Rohan made a strangled laughing sound directed toward his older sister, mocking her misstep, and I swallowed a snort.

Aashiya backtracked at a marvelous speed. "But I'm also a feminist, and if we want to debunk stereotypes, then we need to stick together and kick ass, and strong girls becoming cheerleaders is the first step to doing so."

Bekah sniffed. "Better."

Kol inserted himself between the girls, blocking their view of each other. "By any chance, darling, do you have plans this Friday evening?"

The British-Indian girl recoiled at the sudden change in subject. "I - pardon?"

Rohan scooted closer to me, and whispered, "I think your uncle is asking my sister out on a date." It was hard to ward off a cringe, considering everyone but his own family had enhanced senses and heard every word. By Kol's devilish smirk, the boy was correct.

"My family is hosting a ball this Friday, and I want to know if you are willing to attend," he explained grandly.

For the first time in the conversation, Aashiya seemed to lose a smidgen of her armor of confidence and hesitated. "With you?"

"No, with Grace, the eight-year-old child." He let the sarcasm lag there a moment - and why did he distort it to sound all _bad_ , I was fantastic company - before confirming, "Yes, with me."

I figured either Caroline or Rebekah would hop in head first with their mutual girl-power stuff, since Kol was guiltlessly putting her on the spot, but the two girls only observed the interaction with thinly veiled interest.

Aashiya stepped forward, and trailed a finger against his chest. "And," her voice lowered - husky, coy, "will there be other vampires there, too?" Her lips tweaked into a cold smile as everyone did a double take. "Kol, wasn't it? And Rebekah? You're Originals." It wasn't posed as a question. "Should I expect to see Elijah in the clearance aisle? Klaus in the food court?"

The silence that followed was electrifying. I tried to ignore the prickle of Rohan's questioning gaze burning into the side of my skull. So much for making a friend. I was tempted to burst into tears right there. Great, now she would drag Rohan and Kaira away, and I'd be back to being the dumb little baby who nobody respected and nobody listened to. Searing heat coiled and somersaulted and twirled inside of my organs, my muscles, my bones - I wanted to _explode_. This was all because of the Mikaelsons.

"I don't think Elijah would be caught dead in a clearance aisle," Caroline joked, but it was accompanied with an anxious titter. "Aashiya -"

"And you're a vampire too." Caroline shrunk away. Reaching downward, the teenage British girl propped her baby sister onto her hip, and clutched onto Rohan's hand, who stood up to join her, sizeably more subdued. "Rohan, come on - let's go."

"But . . ." His fingers twitched toward me. "Ace -" A lump swelled in the back of my throat.

"You're a witch," Kol stated, gleeful, with no acknowledgement of her preparing to leave. "A powerful one. I have a great respect for witches. Now you certainly have to attend our ball."

"Why, because your family forces witches to do their bidding and then tosses them aside once they're finished?" she retorted icily, a far cry from the playful, sarcastic girl she was minutes prior. "Vampires are all the same, and I've heard enough about you lot to know that _my_ family isn't safe in the vicinity of yours."

Kol addressed the first piece of her declaration solely. "That's not my entire family. Klaus, yes. Elijah, occasionally. But me? As I said, I love witches. Would you like a list of all the covens and families who have sworn fealty to me because of some favor I performed for them? It's quite extensive." And then, like a magic trick of his own, he busted out an avalanche of surnames. My eyes nearly bugged out of my head. He knew that many witches? And I thought _Klaus_ was meant to be connected. Once he finished, he topped it off with, "And those families are from North America, Africa, Europe, and Asia. I have many allies."

Aashiya swallowed hard. "Did you say the Jindal clan?" At his smug nod, she mumbled, "Family friends."

"Have they mentioned me? I saved their ancestor five hundred years ago, and their loyalty has been unceasing."

She gnawed on her lip, as if deciding how much was too much for him to hear. "I may have heard your name in passing once or twice."

His grin stretched ear to ear. "Do they still have the shrine? Their painting of me wasn't too accurate, but I appreciated the effort."

"All right, all right, I get it!" Aashiya released Rohan's hand, and he shuffled back to me, flashing me a quick smile that signaled his happiness that he hadn't been pressured to abandon me. "You're a friend of witches."

"Damn straight."

Rebekah seemed bored with the proceedings, but Caroline skipped forward with a hopeful smile. "I think we started off on the wrong foot. How about we get lunch?"

I bumped shoulders with Rohan and grinned my face off. He returned it with gusto. This may have been the most exciting thing that happened to me since my daddy died. I had a friend! An actual, real friend!

And it worked out because of my connection to, of all the Mikaelsons, _Kol_. I said it before but I'll say it again: how was this my life?

* * *

"Why did you keep her out so late?" Even half-asleep in Rebekah's arms, I detected the accusatory scowl in Klaus's voice. "It's past her bedtime."

"I hadn't realized you established a bedtime for her," Bekah snipped, the vibrations of her speech tickling my chest.

"Nik loves his retrospective altering of reality," Kol chuckled, and the noise of Klaus's snarl was unmistakable.

"It's 10:30 PM. Whatever bedtime I choose to set, _this is past it_. Now give her to me, you irresponsible, useless -"

It _had_ been a long day. It turns out, neither Rebekah nor Caroline had chosen a dress in the first department store, even though there were, like, a million options. The lunch had lasted a while, since Rohan and I chattered away, and Aashiya and Caroline became fast friends. Kol had transferred all of his flirting energy from Caroline to Aashiya, who was reasonably more receptive than Caroline was once it was revealed that Kol was not her enemy.

And, somewhere near the end of the meal, Aashiya agreed to go to the ball with him for "shits and giggles." So, she decided _she_ needed to find a dress, and then four and a half department stores later, in which Kol also compelled a wardrobe for himself, everyone had their ball gowns. That somehow had lasted for the rest of the afternoon, and it was dark when we bid farewell to the Sureshes, the littlest one already long since knocked out for the night.

I was riding my high off making a friend my own age and being a big kid for once when I fell asleep - only a _little bit_ \- on the way home, sometime before dropping Caroline off. In fact, it was only Bekah carrying me out of the back seat once she pulled up in the driveway that stirred me awake, as of three minutes ago.

After Klaus finished his little tirade, which I tuned out most of, he accepted me into his arms and I nuzzled against his shoulder. "Tired, sweetheart?" he inquired softly.

My eyelids fluttered shut. "No."

"Not even the slightest bit?"

My body went limp against him, making him bear every ounce of my weight. "Nah."

"Mmmhmm."

I drifted in and out of consciousness as Klaus brought me upstairs. I had enough awareness to protest when he led me to my own bedroom, whimpering, "Don't wanna sleep alone, bad dreams."

He hesitated a beat before presumably taking me to his room instead. "Gracie, you know I cannot help you if you don't tell me what happened to you." I felt a soft barrier press against my back - his mattress. "I want to help you, sweetheart. Let me help you."

In my half-dreaming, half-lucid state, all I could do was shake my head back and forth. "Can't say. Too scary."

The mattress dipped and lowered beside me. "You do not need be afraid. I am the strongest, most fearsome entity on this planet. I can make the frightening things go away for you, if you would only tell me what they are."

Too exhausted to make any sense of what I was saying, I mumbled, "The bad things'll find me."

A hand pressed down onto my forehead, and I inclined into his touch. "Who will find you?"

I fumbled for his arm, tugging on his sleeve. He drew me into his safe, warm clutch. Klaus would protect me. He was strong enough to make all the bad things go away. "Mama hates me. Said she loved me, but she don't. Don't want Mama to hate me. Mama hurt me."

His arms tightened around me. "How did your mother hurt you?"

I whined, twisting inside of his hold and yearning for sleep. Why did he keep yapping at me? I wanted to sleep, sleep, sleep . . . "Wanna sleep."

"Answer my question, Grace. How did your mother hurt you?"

A ball of upset unfurled in my stomach, crawling up my insides and lodging in my throat. "Why does Mama hate me?" Hot tears gathered behind my closed eyes. "Mama don't love me no more, why doesn't Mama love me?"

". . . I don't know, sweetheart."

"Sh'loved m'uncle. I didn' love 'im. H'was bad."

He combed his fingers through my hair soothingly, and I mewed like a kitten at the gentle pulling sensation. "How was your uncle bad?"

I reached out and batted at an invisible enemy. "Bad, bad, bad."

"Caroline said you killed your uncle on accident. It wasn't an accident, was it, Gracie?"

The tears that had swelled beneath my eyelids trickled down my cheeks, and I clung onto Klaus for dear life. "He wanted t'hurt me. Bad. Mama loved 'im, Mama hates me. Killed him. Bad, bad, bad, bad, _bad_ -"

As my speech increased in intensity and pitch, Klaus interrupted me with, "That's enough, sweetheart. I don't mean to distress you. Sleep now, and find peace. I'll be here. I will protect you against your nightmares and your demons."

It was too late to go back now. "I want Mama to l-love me," I cried. "Said she would, but she don't. She hates me. Nobody loves me."

It took Klaus a long while to reply. When he did, there was a strained note to his voice. "I love you, Gracie. Rebekah loves you. You are so very loved. Wherever your mother has _crawled off to_ ," even in my muddled hysteria, I heard the hatred wafting from him, "she is a miserable fool if she does not love you."

No, _no_ \- they couldn't . . . they couldn't love me. I was unlovable. Mama called me a freak and a monster and a demon. She was my mama; she knew me better than anyone. She had to be right, didn't she?

I was basically a Mikaelson now, and it seemed like, somehow, that I always was. They had a thousand years to grow to be as awful as they were (I loved them, but most of them _were_ awful); I was only eight. I was born to be like this, when even _they_ weren't. There was something . . . _wrong_ with me.

Klaus sighed as I continued to shake my head. "You are mine now." There was a possessive growl to his tone, and it was as much his wolf speaking as him. "Do not let thoughts of your mother weigh you down, sweetheart. You're free of her. Sleep now, and be free."

For once, I listened to him.

* * *

 **Klaus's Perspective**

When his little girl slipped into delirious slumber, tucked against his chest, Klaus cradled her as if he were afraid she would disappear beneath his fingertips. He examined her swells of soft blonde hair, knotted already from her frantic movements, covering half of her little face. Brushing a few stray strands out of her forehead, he half-smiled at how her eyelids twitched in her sleep. There was a softness to her face, a babyish sweetness that was less evident when she was awake, because she was so hardened and damaged from one tragedy after another. That was why he couldn't bear to scold her for her stupidity in running away and setting her old house on fire whilst still inside the room where the flames ignited. He would, but not today, not after her nightmare.

She had quirks and oddities that had paved the path for his unavoidable fondness. When she was annoyed or confused, she wrinkled her nose. She kept her stuffed bear and small plastic toy together because she didn't want either one to become lonely. For reasons that she could not properly verbalize, she preferred to walk around with one sock over two. She was a violent little thing, and ranted often about her desire to kill the Salvatores - she had such good taste - and yet, a month ago, when they had skirted through California on their way to finding more werewolves, she accidentally stepped on a lizard and cried for a half hour. He was pressed for time and impatient to move on, but she had insisted on giving the crushed reptile a funeral, complete with a pebble headstone and a cross formed from twigs. When riled up, she had the capacity to swear like a sailor, and sometimes shared some very adult thoughts, but in other instances, it was impossible to forget that she was only a child. Her eyes sparkled when she was pleased and clouded when she was morose and blazed when she was irate, the same shade as the high seas.

He didn't understand how someone couldn't love this little girl. Somehow, as if destined by fate, she had become endlessly precious to him. But according to her, her mother didn't love her - no, she _despised_ her daughter. Klaus was very familiar with parental loathing, and the fact that his tiny wolf cub had to face the same rejection? It was intolerable.

His door was still open, and each one of his siblings, even Kol to a lesser degree, passed and fixed Grace with a pitying look on the track to their own bedrooms. Rebekah faltered in the hallway, and angled herself towards his fosterling, as if itching to assure the girl that she loved her, but something about Klaus's expression pushed her on.

Grace, without meaning to, had offered him information about her family on a silver platter. First and foremost, she had not killed her uncle on accident. Caroline lied to him. He had harbored suspicions ever since he heard the older blonde's retelling of the events, but now . . . her uncle had hurt her. Each idea that plagued his mind was more detestable than the last. He would find out what had occurred if it was the last thing he did.

And she still spoke of her mother in the present tense. That woman had hurt her, too. Unlike her dead uncle, Klaus could find this one.

With vengeance coursing through his bloodstream like fire and ice, he vowed to find her mother, and _end_ her pathetic existence.

 **A/N: Told ya that was a long chapter. A lot happened here! I introduced Aashiya, Rohan, and Kaira, who will all be integral characters. Someone finally told Grace off - bound to happen sometime, lol - and it's not a huge surprise that it was Elijah. Growing pains - Grace isn't quite used to being in a family again. Caroline spent the day with the Mikaelson family, and surprisingly, didn't hate it. Grace still isn't over her mother, and Klaus is finally onto something with both her mother and her uncle. A few mentions of Marcel here and there, and Grace has finally learned his name, although not his relation to the Mikaelsons. Will this be important? Hmm...**

 **Have no fear, the ball will take place in the next two chapters. However, it will alter from canon with the inclusion of Grace. I hope you guys liked this chapter, and please review! Thanks so much, and I promise the next update won't take so long! :D**


	17. A Magical Evening

**A/N: Okay, it's been a month, but I have some good reasons! One, I got a job at a sandwich deli. Yay! Two, my community college class has been keeping me pretty busy. And this chapter actually took super duper long to work on because it's over 24,000 words! It amounted to _almost fifty computer pages_. Holy moly. So, the main reason this chapter took so long to get out is I wrote A LOT. **

**Here's the much-anticipated Mikaelson ball! A few things about it. At the end is where the story officially diverges from canon. Also, some of the, for instance, Klaroline dialogue is a bit different, because as many of you have pointed out, they are in a better place here in the story than they were at this time during the show. I worked really hard on those Klaroline scenes, so I hope they live up to your guys' expectations!**

 **And don't worry, Klaus and Grace have a dance together. I would be the devil incarnate if I didn't include that.**

 **I'd like to issue A MIGHTY THANKS to everyone who has read, favorited, followed, and reviewed this story. As of now, I have 295 reviews, 430 favorites, and 524 follows. That's just AMAZING to me, so thank you thank you thank you! Please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks again! :D**

 **Warning: Grace swears a _lot_ in this chapter. If that bothers you, uh, sorry. **

**ALERT: I AM DEVASTATED OVER THE ORIGINALS' FINALE AND THAT WILL NOT HAPPEN IN THIS STORY. THAT IS ALL.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing and nobody but Grace and the Sureshes. I definitely don't own _The Scarlet Letter_ , because would I really be writing fanfiction if I did?**

 **Also, the first anniversary for my story is on August 4th, but I figured it would be better to upload this chapter as early as possible, so here we are! Happy early anniversary!**

 **Chapter 17: A Magical Evening**

 **Grace's Perspective**

"Grace, do not put your hand in there."

Guiltily, my fingers stopped just short of the entrance of the gopher hole. Rudy wagged his tail, impatient, itching to see what was inside of the little tunnel. Or at least I thought he was. He could've been waiting for me to throw his ball again. That was probably more likely.

It was Friday morning, the day of the ball, and the sun was barely peeking over the horizon, the sky streaked with bubblegum pink and neon orange. Now that my sleep schedule was back to normal, I returned to waking up at the ass-crack of dawn - that's what my daddy would call it, anyhow - like I used to when I had cartoons to watch. Klaus _still didn't buy me a TV,_ but I woke up early anyway. Unfortunately, on Monday after Bekah screwed off to school, Klaus scolded me for a straight _hour_ for running away and setting my old house on fire, banning me to my room for an hour _after that_ , and then he decided that I needed some sort of "supervision" until he was certain I wouldn't "find a match and do it again."

Klaus, however, considered himself too important to be my "supervisor" for more than twenty minutes at a time, so he assigned Elijah to the task this fine morning. That entailed me playing fetch with Rudy for a little bit, then exploring the surrounding territory, while he sat on one of the matching chairs on the back porch with a cup of coffee and a newspaper. Apparently, my antics were a little much for even him, because he had his mug refilled twice by a maid.

I really wanted to know what was inside the gopher hole - what if there were _baby_ gophers? - and ever so slowly, watching Elijah with his eyes glued to the newspaper, I lowered my face towards it. My nose was mere inches away when Elijah drawled, "Grace, do not put your face in there."

Did he have x-ray vision or something? He must've, with how often he wrecked my genius plans.

Chewing on my bottom lip in concentration, I crawled around the grass to find a proper resource to complete my quest. I grinned mischievously when I found a stick underneath a spider web inside of a bush - after flicking a spider off my hand and trying not to shriek. I only halfway succeeded. Scurrying back, I promptly lodged the stick inside of the gopher hole, and - "Grace, do not put that stick in there."

There had to be some way to get around this! A light bulb springing above my head, I reached for Rudy's ball, which was soaked in slobber, and prepared to shove it into the hole. That way, Rudy would dig after it, widen the tunnel, and reveal all its secrets. Dang, I was clever. And so, I rolled the ball towards the hole a centimeter at a time, so Elijah wouldn't catch any sudden movements, and then - "Grace, do not put that ball in there."

I collapsed onto my back, defeated. Rudy plopped down next to me. "'LijaaaaaAAAAAaaaaah."

He didn't deem me worthy enough to set his newspaper aside, and instead sipped at his coffee cup, unbothered. "Little one, you do not want to disturb what lives inside of there. It could attack you."

Did he honestly think I'd get pummeled by a gopher? His stupid father _stabbed me in the back_ , and I turned out fine. Sure, Stefan had to dribble some vamp blood in my mouth, but I was still walking and talking. This was an attack on my character, and I would not accept it! "If the gopher attacks me, I'd win," I said dryly. It was a funny mental image, actually, as I envisioned myself decking the gopher in the snout - did gophers have snouts? - and KO'ing the little rodent.

"It could have diseases. If it bit you, it could transfer rabies, for instance." Ugh, why did he have to be so reasonable all the time? It was like arguing with a brick wall, except the brick wall was smarter than me and knew more than all the dictionaries and history textbooks in the world combined. "You don't want rabies, do you?"

I mean, I didn't _want_ rabies. I didn't think anyone _wanted_ rabies, but - "Kol said like three times this week that I already have rabies." Kol was mean to me half the time and friendly the other half. It was dizzying.

He sighed, and wet his fingertip to turn the page. I didn't understand how he was so interested in the _news_. The news was boring or sad - sometimes boring _and_ sad. If he found his politics more fascinating than yours truly, I was prepared to grab a pitchfork and riot. Only, I didn't really know where to find a pitchfork. Did they sell pitchforks anymore? Nobody burned witches at the stake nowadays - that I was aware of - but surely pitchforks could be handy at some point or another. For instance, one of those handy instances would be where a stupid old adult paid the _government_ more attention than his foster _niece -_

"Kol said that to be unkind, not because he truly believes you have the affliction," he said with a faint note of humor. "He also said that Rebekah sounds like a wet cat that was thrown from the Eiffel Tower and didn't quite die upon impact." I cracked a smile at that. I loved Bekah with all my southern heart, but it _was_ pretty funny when Kol busted that one out. Rebekah had been very unamused when I hid my giggles in Klaus's shirt and Klaus laughed openly. In fact, only three and a half minutes later, Klaus had to scoop me up and make a run for it because Bekah's screeching got a little too loud. She didn't exactly _disprove_ Kol's theory by doing that. "We've learned not to hold stock in every word that comes out of his mouth."

"I dunno, he kinda had a point there," I admitted, hoping beyond hope that Bekah hadn't woken up yet, because if she overheard that, I was pretty sure she would find a way to stuff my mutilated corpse inside of that gopher hole.

Elijah exhaled a sigh of amusement. "Do not let her catch you saying that. There will be no creature nor deity in this universe that could save you then."

"I'm bored," I huffed, refraining from stamping my foot since Elijah would interpret that as another tantrum. I didn't expect him to drop his newspaper and jump around the yard with me - in fact, if he did, then I would find the nearest priest to exorcise him. But what he _did_ suggest next soured my mood.

"If you are bored, we could always discuss Dimmesdale's internal struggle about Hester and Pearl, or rehearse your multiplication tables -"

He was the actual worst. I pulled an ugly face, and shook my head vigorously. "Nah, I'm good."

He smirked. "That's what I thought." And then the son of a bitch returned to his newspaper.

When it became obvious enough that Elijah wasn't planning on bending, I started up another rousing game of fetch with Rudy to pass the time. But he wasn't in tip-top shape after his almost two months in the woods, and so he melted into the grass after only ten minutes, his tongue lolling as he panted. "Lazy dog," I mumbled.

All I wanted was for one of them to take me somewhere fun and interesting. I was sick and tired of being stuck in the manor all the time. Occasionally, when Klaus or Elijah or even Bekah had business in the town, they'd allow me to join them, but Mystic Falls was boring as an old sack of wood chips. I wanted to go somewhere exciting, like Disneyland.

As I was busy lamenting my dull existence, I wandered a little into the trees surrounding the mansion and discovered with delight a wide mud puddle from where it had rained the night before. I liked mud - well, I liked mud when I didn't face-plant into it running from my problems.

Thankfully for me, the foliage blocked Elijah's view of me - and he wasn't paying extremely close attention, anyway - so I had the chance to play in the mud to my heart's desires. At first, I poked the surface of the puddle, watching in fascination as circular ripples shot out in every direction. Then, I slid my entire hand into it, grinning at the cold sludge that shifted beneath my palm. Wondering how deep it was, I speedily glided my bare feet inside, and stood up. Much to my joy, the murky water rose up almost to my knees, and puffing out my chest, I straightened my spine into my most regal pose.

"I'm the mud queen," I whispered. I gazed proudly down at all of the little shrubs and insects that existed around me. "And you're my subjects."

I gasped when, about three feet or so left of the puddle, I saw a fat worm wriggling around. Now feeling more like a scientist than a monarch, I hustled out of the puddle, the mud still squished between my toes, and crawled over to it. Endlessly intrigued, I plucked it up between my thumb and forefinger and observed as it flailed about. "Hi," I murmured. "Do you wanna be my friend?"

He slowed down a bit, so I took that as a yes. Giggling, I allowed him to wiggle to and fro on my hands, readjusting him when he was close to tumbling off. "Good wormy." Opening up my dress pocket, I tucked him inside, prepared to sneak him into the mansion. There were too many puddles around; he could drown!

What followed shortly after wasn't my most _badass_ moment, or even in the top hundred. But when it came down to it, even though I was a werewolf who had handled a lot in my life, I was also a scrawny eight-year-old who didn't know shit from shinola. So, when I sat there for a few moments more, quiet as a mouse and enjoying the trees and critters around me, and heard a familiar rattling sound, I froze solid.

Instantly terrified, I craned my neck around and sure enough, there was a rattlesnake creeping forward. My mind went blank. What was it doing out here? The forest was soaked; it had no reason to be out here, and I didn't think I had bothered it. Rattlesnakes attacked when they felt threatened.

One of my first memories was being bitten by a rattler when I was three or four, after I'd tripped on a mound of boulders at the park near my house and landed too close to a crack in-between two of the rocks. I had screamed my throat out at the sudden pain, and my mama had sprinted to me, fear painted across her features in big bold letters. Wailing, I had clung to her, and she started to cry too, equally afraid - afraid she would lose me. She had loved me then. She bundled me up in her car and drove to the hospital, calling my daddy with her cell phone propped against her shoulder, one hand on the wheel and the other latched onto me, refusing to let go, and barely able to form complete sentences through her sobs.

The anti-venom saved my life, and everything turned out all right. Even after the doctor told my mama that I would be fine, she hid her head on Daddy's shoulder and continued to bawl her eyes out, repeating over and over that she had been so close to losing me.

The memory of my mama's love, before it had poisoned to hate, dripped into my bones and locked my limbs into place. I couldn't move, even as the snake slithered closer, flicking out its forked tongue, teasing me. It was so _long_. Why was it after me? I didn't try to hurt it, I wasn't moving towards it - and yet it still continued onwards. Paralyzed with fear, all I could do was swallow a lump in my throat and croak, "' _Lijah_ ," afraid to startle the snake into biting me. It was mere inches from my right leg.

The terror laced my bloodstream. What if he didn't hear, what if he didn't come, what if it bit me, what if I died, what if what if what if what if what if -

There was another rattle, and I screamed as it lunged for me. "'Lijah!"

But no blinding burn of pain bloomed across my leg, no teeth lodged into my skin - because Elijah had blurred forward and swept me up faster than the speed of light. He sped me out of the trees and onto the porch, and it registered that the snake had struck the place I had been seated a fraction of a second after he yanked me away. Winding my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, I whimpered into his collar, my heart still thudding terribly. "You're safe now," he whispered into my ear, his arms squeezing me into his chest so tightly I almost couldn't breathe, his hand cupping the back of my head. "I have you, you're safe now."

Even he sounded a little shaken.

A flash of movement caught my eye, and a curtain on a second story window snapped shut. But before it did, I could've sworn I captured a glimpse of blonde hair. _Esther_. Did she - ? No. _No_. That wasn't possible. She couldn't control _animals_. But - but she was the Original witch. Who knew what sorts of spells she had hidden up her sleeve? She turned her kids into the first vampires, surely she could've cursed a snake into attacking me.

She wouldn't do that, would she? She didn't like me, but - she _wouldn't_. I wasn't so sure. She told me I was tearing her family apart. Maybe she wanted rid of me. Maybe she wanted me gone.

Did she just try to _kill_ me? But that didn't make any sense. The venom wouldn't kill me right away, and with vampire blood I doubted anti-venom would be necessary. So, she wasn't trying to kill me, but . . . It hit me. That was a threat. It was intended to spook me. A warning to stay out of her way.

And it worked.

But it may have not been her, right? It could've been a fluke. Esther didn't like me, but that didn't mean she would do _that_ to me. She hadn't done anything that evil - yet. Maybe it was just all a coincidence, but all the same, it terrified me.

"I-I was so scared," I gasped into his shoulder, hiding my face in the crook of his neck and on the verge of hyperventilating. I was shaking like a leaf. "It was - it was so scary."

He didn't even mind that my muddy legs must've been ruining his suit, which was a testament to how much he cared about me, because if it were anyone else he probably would've found the snake again and used it as a weapon. "I know, little one," he murmured, rubbing comforting patterns into my back. "I know." Rudy whined beneath us, worried about me in his little doggie way.

Something occurred to me then. Elijah _saved_ me. Like a knight in shining armor, he saved me. I trusted him to save me, and he did. He didn't let me down. He swooped in and rescued me from danger.

I was so, so used to fending for myself in this nasty old world - even when Daddy and Paige's pack were around, I still had to mostly deal with my own problems, since Daddy was drunk half the time - but I didn't _have to_ anymore. Klaus promised to protect me, but _all_ of his siblings would protect me too. For once, I was allowed to be eight years old, and I didn't have to stress about surviving from day to day.

Elijah was right. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, I was _safe_. Or at least, I was safe as long as I avoided Esther.

"What happened?" came a vicious, monstrously loud demand. Klaus, growling, all but kicked open the back door and looked ready to destroy a city or two. Involuntarily, I snuggled closer to Elijah. I loved Klaus, but he still scared me sometimes.

"Th-there was a snake," I told him before Elijah could. "But Uncle 'Lijah saved me."

They both paused, and I realized my slip-up. _Uncle 'Lijah_. That was the first time I called any one of them by a familial title. Klaus was still Klaus. Rebekah was Bekah. Finn was Finn. Kol was asshole. Esther was crazy bitch. I even surprised myself. It was easier to call him Uncle 'Lijah than it would be to call Rebekah, say, Aunt Bekah, though. It could've been because when I met him, I was already more or less Klaus's "fosterling." That practically made him my uncle from the beginning. Klaus and Rebekah, meanwhile, were my friends first and so it was harder to address them differently, even though Klaus sort of _felt_ like my new daddy and Bekah _felt_ like my aunt.

"What snake?" Klaus prompted once he moved past his initial bout of surprise.

"There is a rattlesnake on the border between the trees and grass," Elijah explained, also continuing beyond his mild shock. "It attempted to bite her, but I removed her from the area before it could."

Klaus snarled wordlessly, and I gulped. Without uttering another syllable, he spun around on his heel and marched towards the woods. Was he going to kill the snake? For little ol' me? I was kind of touched. He scolded me more often than I preferred now, but he was still a homie.

I winced at the sound of a fierce hiss and rattle, and then a series of _thumps_ as Klaus presumably whacked the creature against a tree trunk. The aggressive noises stopped, and he returned with a mangled snake carcass. I wrinkled my nose in disgust. _Gross_. "You didn't need to bring it back, Niklaus," Elijah chided, sounding faintly repulsed himself.

But Klaus's pulsing anger had ebbed into a certain thoughtfulness. "This is an Eastern Diamondback," he remarked, twisting the snake around in his fingers and examining its scale patterns. "How curious."

"Why is that?" Elijah prodded.

"These snakes never travel as far north as Virginia," he mused, and that little snippet of information slapped me in the face. It _wasn't_ meant to be here. And not only was it in the wrong place at the wrong time, but it went out of its _way_ to attack me, when I hadn't even gone near it in the first place. I was starting to really believe that Esther was involved, and it frightened me. "Hmmm." Shrugging, he lobbed the snake through the air with all of its might, and it hurtled into the trees, landing in the far distance with a faint _thud_.

Now that the snake was gone and I was officially safe, I scooted down Elijah and hopped back onto my feet, patting Rudy on the head. Almost immediately, Elijah shucked off his dirty suit jacket and draped over his arm. It was basically ruined, unless dry cleaning could fix it right up. I didn't really understand the finer workings of laundry.

Klaus gestured at the filth caked onto me with a slight frown. "Did you get muddy attempting to escape the snake?"

That was a better story than the truth. "Uh huh."

But he knew me too well. "Or did you decide to climb into a mud puddle of your own accord?" he asked suspiciously.

". . . No . . ."

"Are you lying to me?"

Silence. I gave him my widest, most innocent smile and fluttered my eyelashes. He only snorted. I tried to dart past him and flee into the mansion before he could freak out on me for _whatever_ he decided was easiest to freak out on me over, but he stopped me with a hand clamped firmly down on my shoulder. What he said next was unexpected.

"What is in your pocket, Gracie?"

They both gazed down at me with raised eyebrows and I deduced that I had stumbled into one of those little adult tests where they saddled me with a question they already knew the answer to in order to see whether or not I would continue to lie blatantly to their faces.

A lot of kids would've blushed and cowered and spit out the truth then for fear of a worse punishment. The thing was, I wasn't a regular kid. I wasn't sweet at all, and I was barely even nice - and even then, it was rare. I had no qualms against manipulation, violence, or any of that. It didn't even faze me.

Also, I was a lean, mean, lying machine. If I were a few years older and a _lot_ more mature, I probably would've made the connection that I was _maybe_ a little hypocritical when I got pissed at everyone under the sun for lying to _me_ , but in that moment, I was miles away from forming that connection and I happily lied with no ounce of remorse or embarrassment. "Nothing."

Elijah crossed his arms - uh oh - and Klaus clenched his teeth a little bit. "Then what is exiting your pocket?" the latter questioned, exasperated.

What the hell, my new worm friend was abandoning me! Scowling, I flicked him back into my pocket. I had gifted him with a safe haven, and this is how he repaid me? What a rude little insect. "There's nothin' leaving my pocket." That wasn't a lie, per se, and by Klaus's resounding squint, he had grudgingly noticed that.

I remembered how much taller than me the two men were when Elijah stepped forward and settled me with one of his _looks_ that told me I was in for it. This week, I hadn't done much to tick him off yet, not since before the dress-shopping debacle, but it was bound to happen sometime. "Grace. We all saw the earthworm inside of your pocket. Are you truly lying to us about this?"

He was giving me an out. That was kind of him. Sadly for me, I was as stubborn as a mule. "I dunno what you're talking about. I think you're seein' things."

Now it was Klaus's turn to step forward, and the pair of them towered over me like a pair of meaty, well-dressed skyscrapers. "Are you aware that you have lied to us four times in the last three minutes?"

Was Klaus seriously counting? What a dork. That would've been a reasonable moment to back out and quit showing him my ass, but then again, I was still me. "I did not!"

Elijah looked seconds away from throwing me down a well. And to think, he had only just rescued me from the snake and hugged me to calm me down! Where did that go?

I refused to even _consider_ the notion that _I_ had chased his good will away.

"Do you remember what I said would happen to you less than a week ago before you, Rebekah, and Kol left the mansion?" he said pointedly.

 _Say yes. Say yes. Say ye-_ "No."

Klaus recoiled, and Elijah's lips parted open, like he was dumbfounded at how far I was willing to take this ridiculous game. Little did he know I was willing to take it to my _grave_. My stubbornness was without bounds. "Grace Lucille Sutton," Elijah chastened, and I cringed.

Aw crap, why did I ever tell Klaus my middle name? I should've known he would spread the word and use it against me.

And I would recognize that steel-laced tone anywhere. When that voice reared its ugly head, that was about when Mama would be chasing me around with a wooden spoon and Daddy would be unbuckling his belt. I thanked the high heavens that Elijah was classier than that. "Allow me to refresh your memory, then," he continued sternly when I kept my mouth shut. "If you lie to us one more time, you will be in your room for the rest of the day, and you will miss the ball."

I missed Klaus glowering at his older brother in my sudden haze of jolly excitement. I didn't want to go to that lame dance anyway! This was turning out really well for me. Great, even! "Really?" I squealed.

Elijah sighed at the realization that I didn't even want to attend the dance at all, and that he was rewarding me instead of punishing me, and Klaus took over for him. "Empty your pocket, Grace."

Slowly and deliberately, I emptied the pocket on my left side, which my worm friend wasn't in. But Klaus was in no mood for my bullshit. "Your _other_ pocket."

There was no wiggling around this one. I was totally boned. When my worm pal rolled onto my reluctant palm, I feigned shock and pretended to be utterly gobsmacked. "How did _that_ get in there?"

I flinched when they both snapped in the exact same irritated tone, " _Grace_." My name was now officially a weapon of mass destruction. Yep, at this point, Mama would've caught up to me and would've been walloping the hell out of me with the spoon, and Daddy would've been wrecking damage with his belt.

"O- _kay_ ," I mumbled. It was over now. I was finished. "This is my new pet."

The two of them pulled sort of hilarious double takes that I would've laughed at in any other instance if doing so wouldn't have ended in my untimely death. "You cannot keep a pet worm," Elijah said as if it were painfully obvious, but I wasn't so sure it was.

"Why not?"

Elijah exhaled in that way adults did when they were trying really hard not to punch me in the face. "Grace, what do earthworms eat?"

What, did he think I was some kind of idiot? "Worm food, duh."

The two brothers exchanged a look that spoke a thousand words - a thousand words of them thinking I was a goddamn moron. I struggled not to feel offended. "He's my friend," I insisted before they could spew anything to chip at my self-esteem. "I named him and everything."

Klaus smirked, shaking his head ruefully, like he was arriving to the conclusion that I was much dumber than he originally thought and he would have to live with that. "You named it already? Ah, allow me to guess. Wormy."

I furrowed my brow, unimpressed. "His name is Napoleon Wormaparte."

Both brothers assumed identical stoic expressions with twitching lips and twinkling eyes, as if they were putting a _lot_ of effort into restraining themselves from bursting out laughing. I scowled harder. "What's so funny?"

"Well, we have to let her keep it now," Klaus addressed humorously to Elijah. "She named it after a dictator."

"I'm afraid not," Elijah replied with the same undercurrent of mirth, "it seems that Napoleon needs to be banished for a third time." They chuckled in what appeared to be a private little bubble of a moment, one of those moments where grown-ups made some "sophisticated" joke that pleased them to no end, tickling their refined sense of . . . adultiness. "Put it back, Grace. You need to shower and begin to prepare for the ball."

So, I wasn't banned from that? Aw, man. "But he's the heir to the French throne," I whined, cradling the little noodle to my chest and away from the big scary vampires that wanted to hurt him.

"France is a democracy now," Klaus pointed out.

"That's what they want you to think," I said sourly. Klaus chuckled again.

"Put it back, sweetheart. We won't ask again." Huffing and puffing, I stomped over to a strip of dirt and gently lowered Napoleon onto it, depressed that I had to say goodbye to my new friend so soon.

"Bye, Napoleon," I grumped, but that wasn't even the worst part of it. Rudy was drawn to the erratic movements of the little worm, pounced, and proceeded to _eat_ him, gobbling him up with a wagging tail. My mouth dropped open in outrage, and I shrieked at the dog, " _Rudy, you ate the emperor!_ "

Klaus lost whatever control he had over himself and dissolved into uproarious laughter.

* * *

It _was_ Esther who sicced the snake on me. When Klaus carried me inside, holding me from underneath my armpits to avoid getting mud on himself or the waxed floors, I saw her in my peripheral vision, inside of the kitchen. She smirked at me, and that was when I _knew_ that it was her. Because it was a malicious, evil little gesture that she hid beautifully when Elijah joined her.

This was war.

In hindsight, I was awfully glad that everybody was busy with preparing for the ball. Because when Grace Sutton declared war, I damn well meant it. Esther Mikaelson had chosen the wrong little shithead to rile up. I wasn't like other kids, or even regular adults with active consciences. After all I'd been through, I was a little insane, and a lot immoral.

If Esther wanted to pick a fight with me, then I'd _fuck her up_.

Firstly, after Elijah made me take a shower and rinse off all the mud and remnants of fear, I redressed in a long-sleeved black shirt with green camouflage pants that I bought in Macy's a week before when I got tired of staring at dresses. It was more to get me in the mood of warfare than anything else.

Then, when Rebekah stepped into the shower, I knew I had somewhere between thirty minutes and an hour to sift through her stuff, since she took _ridiculously long_ showers.

With all the stealth of a ninja, I slipped into her bedroom and rummaged through her makeup, plucking a stick of eyeliner from a little pouch and drawing thick black horizontal lines across my cheeks to complete the picture. I grabbed her phone, then, from where it was charging on her nightstand (really, it was her own fault, since she didn't have a passcode) and swiped past her pointless text conversations - although it did please me that she had been texting Aashiya a few times - and Googled weapons to use against Esther.

She was the Original Witch, after all. I'd have to be a little creative with my counterattack.

After browsing through a couple Wikihows, I decided on a weapon that I could store in my closet for safekeeping and that could cause a lot of devastation for being so simple to make. There was the added bonus that if I didn't end up using it on Esther, Damon was a prime candidate. I didn't even hate him anymore, but I couldn't think of someone else nearby who would work out so well.

Why did I need a doll or an XBox when I could have my very own Molotov cocktail? It sounded fun to me, and it looked neat in the movies. Like a special sort of art project, except that it could set someone on fire. Plus, it probably wasn't a _good_ thing, but I found myself kind of liking fire. When I set my old house and even Stefan on fire, it released some pent-up frustrations. In fact, I was a little tempted to start another fire because of that.

Was that bad? It seemed bad.

Anywho, I read the instructions over and over and over again until I had them memorized. They weren't hard to follow. It was really a dummy's manuel. I needed gasoline, a glass bottle, alcohol, a match or lighter, and a newspaper. All of which would be easy as cake to find. Elijah kept a spare tank of gas in his trunk for emergencies. The Mikaelsons had a bunch of tacky vases - some made of glass. And, of course, all of their alcohol - that would bring in the glass factor too. Those tools had lighters everywhere, and I'd snatch Elijah's newspaper as revenge for ignoring me for too long. It was perfect.

Peeking out into the hallway, I smirked at its lack of occupants and moseyed my way over to the nearest table, snatching up a glass bottle of what I now understood to be something called _bourbon_. Shrugging, I blurred down the rest of the hallway and stowed it away in my room. Step one and two, alcohol and glass, complete.

I snuck out my window for no particular reason other than that I wanted to prove to myself that I could land upright on the driveway without shattering my wrists again. This time, I was more careful as I shimmied down the roof, and I suppressed a squeal of triumph when I made it to the bottom safe and sound. Imagining a _Mission Impossible_ theme to follow my efforts, I darted over to Elijah's car and somersaulted in the final stretch. It didn't save any time, but I looked cool doing it.

I huffed when I went to open his trunk and it didn't budge. "Aw, hell," I muttered. It was locked. Of course it was. Where did Elijah put his stupid keys? Oh well, I didn't have time for this. I was on a clock. Using brute strength, I popped open the trunk, wincing at whatever snapped in the process. If Elijah found out that I did this, he'd hand me my ass.

Grabbing the canister and sloshing it around to check that there actually was gas inside, I scurried back up the house after quietly shutting the trunk - I _only_ slipped twice on my way up - and tumbled back into my room. Picking up the bottle full of alcohol, I frowned. Did it say how much of each I was meant to pour in? Did it even matter? It was going to go _boom_ anyway. Shrugging again, I dribbled some of it out the window and mixed a waterfall of gas into it, placing the fancy glass lid back on and swirling it around.

Grinning, I shoved the bottle and canister into my closet. There we go. I had the glass, the alcohol, and the gas. Now all I needed was a newspaper and a lighter. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. I was born for this crap.

Once again, I thanked God that everyone was so busy fixing up the mansion and themselves for the ball. And to think, Bekah was still in her shower. One time, Klaus mentioned a little something about her wasting water, which he only said to annoy her since he didn't care about the environment or the people living inside of it, so her next shower she took another hour to irritate him right back. Who knew how long she'd be in there now? It could be _days_.

Once I made it to the staircase, I hoisted myself onto the smooth, polished bannister and slid down. Again, it didn't save much time, but I felt like a secret agent on a mission so it was all worth it.

Sliding into the kitchen and skating across the floor with the fuzzy socks I'd yanked on along with my new outfit - well, one of them, I pulled the other off and I was pretty sure it was under Bekah's bed now - I scrambled to right myself and then started checking the nearest drawers. It didn't take long. In the drawer next to the refrigerator, there were car keys - including Elijah's, oops - and three lighters. Did they really need three? Did they burn buildings or bodies enough that they needed _back-ups_?

Whatever the reason, it made me feel less guilty about stealing one.

Finally, I tip-toed towards the back door and avoided all the workers milling around who were compelled into silence and obedience. That sounded a little like slavery to me, but who was I to judge? Elijah had left his boring old newspaper on the porch table after the whole snake incident, so I cheerfully tucked it under my arm and was on my merry way.

I darted back up the staircase on all fours because it was more fun and somersaulted again when I hit the top landing. The hard granite floor was uncomfortable against my bony bird skeleton, but that didn't stop me from performing another one outside of my room. Clicking the door shut behind me, I rolled up the newspaper and stuck it inside of the bottle so it became drenched with the gas-alcohol mixture. I placed the lighter next to it, shut the closet door, and congratulated myself on a job well done. It secured me that whenever I needed it, it'd be there, waiting to explode.

If Esther so much as _looked_ at me wrong, her room was going up in flames.

Humming a chipper little tune, I exited my bedroom and yelped when I bumped right into Finn. "Jiminy Cricket!" I squeaked, tripping over my own feet and crashing against the wall. "Ow . . ."

He reached out a hand to steady me, then gave me a curious look. "You smell a little odd, Grace," he remarked, and I swore like a sailor in my head. "And . . . what is on your face? Is everything all ri-"

"I didn't do anything," I frantically interrupted him with, and he narrowed his eyes a little. "I have to, uh, go wash my hands and face and stuff. See you, um, soon."

That wasn't suspicious at all.

* * *

By the time early afternoon arrived and I had properly cleaned myself off, it was time for all the Mikaelsons to get fitted into their fancy suits. Elijah was in his regular dress shirt, probably because he didn't need any adjustments on his tux (and because I ruined his suit jacket), and he was buffing a shoe that seemed shiny enough to begin with, but not for Mr. OxiClean the Second. Finn looked quite dashing too, and a tailor hemmed his pants. Kol was even prettier than normal, another tailor fixing his jacket, and unfortunately he seemed to well grasp this notion.

He was stood in front of a mirror, admiring himself, while more compelled minions painted the fingernails of Rebekah and me. Her nails were being transformed into a pale pink hue, while mine were the same lilac as my dress. Rudy was laying by my feet, dozing. "Rebekah?" Kol poked. "Tell me how handsome I am."

"Oh Kol, you know I can't be compelled," she quipped, and I giggled at her quick-witted response. She flashed me a quick, private smile and then returned to her previous bored exterior when Kol half-heartedly glowered at her through the mirror.

"Hmmm." His devilish smirk dominated his face. "Grace, tell me how handsome I am."

Rebekah nudged me in the side pointedly, as if I was planning on letting her joke go to waste. No way! "I can't be compelled either," I said innocently, and Finn snorted from somewhere behind me.

"Fine," Kol huffed. "I'll find little Kaira, and she will certainly tell me how handsome I am."

"She's four years old," I retorted, although I was equally sure that she would tell Kol how handsome he was, since she seemed to have fostered a bit of a crush on him. "That doesn't count."

He shrugged it off. "Then I'll find Aashiya, and _she_ will tell me how handsome I am."

"Doubt it," I said smugly. As far as I knew, they hadn't met up at all during the week, but they had exchanged numbers near the end of the shopping spree. I caught him texting her a couple times and calling her once, although the conversation sounded pretty insulting on both ends and was cut short when she claimed to have "better things to do than talk to an immortal pervert." He liked her, but she was still in her "hard to get" mode.

"She's smitten with me," he replied, matching my smugness. "I've lived a thousand years, Gracie. I've learned to tell these things."

He was so cocky. I wouldn't put it past her if Aashiya had a date on Thursday and another set for Saturday, only stopping her schedule to attend the ball with Kol today. He was fascinated with her, but I couldn't tell if she had any reciprocated spark.

"We have yet to meet this mystery girl, or her family," Elijah remarked from behind the couch, still wiping down his shoe, that _really_ seemed clean enough to me. "We cannot hear enough of them from Grace," that was true, I did yammer on about my new friends a lot, "but I hope to meet them in person."

Then Finn added, "If this girl was able to ward off the charms of the infamous Kol Mikaelson, then she is a treasure to us all." I giggled again, my palm flying to my mouth to muffle the sound so I wouldn't piss Kol off too bad. Finn was only around for the first century of the Mikaelsons' long existence, but I guess Kol was slutty even then.

Kol spun around to glare at him. "Shut it, brother."

These were some of the high points of living with the Mikaelson family. Lounging around and bantering back and forth was when I felt most connected to them. It made me forget the other stuff about them - the bad parts.

Leave it to Klaus to remind me.

He barged through the door, slamming it against the wall. From the cracking, crumbling noise that followed, the door knob broke through the plaster. As if on cue, all of the compelled tailors and nail-care artists filtered out. Rudy whimpered, jumping onto the couch and hiding behind me. Elijah didn't even reprimand him for it this time. Nervously, I scooted closer to Bekah, which turned out to be a poor idea since he was mad at her.

Mad was a weak word for it. Klaus looked _furious_. "You went after Elena last night? What is wrong with you?"

Whoa, whoa - hold the phone. Bekah went after Elena last night and she _didn't invite me_? And when did Klaus find out? A few hours ago, he was perfectly content with life and all of its wonders, so it must've been sometime after the worm incident. "Here we go," she sighed.

His face twisted into a mean scowl. "I suppose you took advantage of the time I spent at Grace's bedside, comforting her after a nightmare, to _slip out_." Bekah wilted a little, and I felt her shame.

I mostly slept in my own bed this week, but the night before, I had another nightmare. This one portrayed my uncle, and my stabbing him. My subconscious must have recognized Klaus's presence in my mind and protected me, though, because it didn't reenact any of my other interactions with my uncle. Just killing him. But the blood had pooled across the floor, and my dream skewed reality, blood building and thickening until it flowed underneath me like a river, threatening to carry me away. Klaus had managed to wake me up before it could, and I spent the rest of the night in his bed and in his arms.

"Do you want another dagger in your heart?" he continued coldly.

Panic wiped my mind blank and sent shivers up and down my spine. "Don't hurt her," I begged him, clutching onto her and preparing to fight as hard as I needed to on her behalf. "Don't do that again." He cast me an unreadable glance.

Kol had her back too, it turns out. "Again with the dagger threats?" he mocked. "Don't you have any other tricks?"

It was odd. Kol teased and frankly belittled Rebekah more than anyone else in the universe, but the second that anyone _else_ attempted to do so, he bristled. In a weird way, he had assigned himself to be her most loyal attacker and protector. It was obvious that he had mixed feelings about his family, but she was his little sister, and he loved her.

Klaus whipped his head around to face his defiant little brother. "Oh, go back to staring at yourself," he sneered. What happened to the fun morning we'd been having, where we all seemed to genuinely _like_ each other? Klaus _had_ to ruin it.

"And who are you, my father?" Kol countered, real anger trickling into his tone. "I thought Gracie was to be your child - not I."

"No, Kol, but you're in _my_ house," Klaus declared in return. "Disrespecting me in front of _my_ fosterling."

"I don't mind," I said helplessly, and the glare that Klaus sent me then was truly menacing. I shrunk into my skin, and Bekah wound a tender arm around my shoulders, despite her wet nails.

Kol stepped forward, and this was the second time where he looked honestly dangerous. The first time was when Elijah had undaggered him and unleashed him on Klaus. Most of the time, he maintained good humor and enjoyed himself, but right now . . . he looked like he was prepared to kill someone. "Then perhaps we should go outside." And that person was Klaus.

Klaus met his steely gaze with practically dripping disdain, and they stood nose to nose, waiting for the other to initiate the fight. Kol's fingers twitched, curling and uncurling, and Klaus's posture lifted and poised. Both of them desperately wanted to throw the first punch.

Esther waltzed into view, calm and cool as ever, and barked, "Enough!" to split her sons apart. I stiffened at the sight of her, and fought the urge to kick her skull in. She gestured for Klaus, and said in tandem, "Niklaus, come."

Klaus marched after his mother, stinking of bad attitude, and the smirk that Kol tossed after him was far nastier than his typical snarkiness. "Lightweight," he muttered under his breath.

I released a long breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, slumping down when the threat evaporated with Klaus's exit, and Bekah, somehow able to interpret just what I needed, tugged me onto her lap and enveloped me with her soft, feminine arms. "It's okay now, little love," she murmured. Rudy inched over and placed his chin on my thigh.

"You're fortunate I correctly interpreted your leaving the house and stopped you when I did," Elijah scolded, and I caught Bekah's subtle eye roll.

Klaus started ranting to Esther before the rest of us could say anything. "Rebekah was out of her box barely over a week before she betrayed me." Elena was kind of a bitch. Did trying to kill her really count as _betrayal_? To me, it was common sense. Like swatting a fly. "What happened to peace, acceptance, family?"

What a load of crock. I loved him, but he was so selfish and twisted sometimes. He only wanted his family around when it suited him, and they had to be on their best behavior, or else. Everyone was forced to walk on eggshells around him, even me on occasion. "You put daggers in their hearts," Esther responded. "You want them to go down on their knees and kiss your feet for reuniting them?"

Well, damn. I despised the bitch, but she had a point. Argh, that even hurt for me to _think_. I leaned back against Bekah, shutting my eyes. This family was _exhausting_. "So it's a crime to want our family to be as we were? With the addition of Gracie?"

I'm sorry, but did he include me as an _afterthought_? I was a lot of things in this crazy little ball of mess we called life, but I would never be an _afterthought_. I was the goddamn star of this freaky, screwed up sitcom. Grumpily, I squirmed around in Bekah's hold, and she planted a kiss on my temple, smiling. Rudy huffed and leaned his head against Bekah instead, which she didn't mind anymore.

"You need to give it time, Niklaus," Esther ordered. "I've had a thousand years on the other side to be angry and to heal. I'm here to make sure this family does the same."

She didn't heal shit. According to her conversation with Finn I overheard, she was still mad as hell. Finn claimed he would check her, but that didn't mean she contained warm and fuzzy feelings for her kids. And anyway, I highly I doubted I was included in her "family." She hated me as much as I hated her. I didn't have a place in her world. She spelled a _snake_ after me!

"I just don't understand," Klaus mused. "I killed you, and still you forgive me."

She didn't forgive _shit_! When I first found out Klaus murdered his mom, I thought it was a little weird. A little cruel, maybe, because while I killed my uncle in the heat of the moment, Klaus's crime was on purpose. Now, I didn't care at all. In fact, I figured that killing her again might be the best option for everyone involved.

"It's been my dream for a thousand years that this family could be as one." Total bull, she viewed them as _evil_. "Forgiveness is not a chore." If it was a chore, then she was definitely skirting around it. "It's a gift." Did Santa bring coal this year? Because I didn't see any damn gifts. "Now, who are you bringing to the ball this evening?"

He ended up inviting Caroline, especially once I made it perfectly clear that I would disown him if he didn't. "You don't know her." _Good_ , I thought viciously. She didn't deserve to know Caroline.

"Hmm. I hope to meet her tonight. It is going to be a magical evening."

A sense of foreboding crept through me, sending the little hairs on the back of my neck shooting upward. A magical evening? She could just be saying that, but - Was she planning something? Twisting around on Bekah's lap, I fixed Finn with a questioning look, and by his somber expression, he perceived the same strangeness. Flitting his gaze from side to side to ensure none of the rest of them were watching us, he mouthed, 'I will speak with her.'

That didn't unravel the tangled coil of anxiety that knotted within my stomach, but I tried to hide it when Klaus stormed back in, sitting down next to Bekah after Rudy quickly hopped off. When he reached for me in his demanding way, I crawled obligingly into his lap. He was a bizarre one. He was actually pretty cuddly when the opportunity arose. I was fairly touchy-feely, and liked to be held, but Klaus too seemed to yearn for physical and emotional affection, and sought a lot of it from me. He was a murderous beast, but he only wanted to be loved.

He also seemed to be using me to calm down, dragging his fingers through my hair in a manner that was probably more for him than me. "I can't believe you betrayed me and tried to kill Elena," he snarled softly, now that Esther had wandered off to who knows where. Hell, if had a say in it.

"Yeah," I accused, jabbing her in the side with my bare foot, "I can't believe you tried to kill Elena without me!"

Kol, who had been sipping at his glass of alcohol, sputtered through his laughter. Bekah covered her smile behind her hand, and Klaus swatted me upside the head. He did that a lot. My skull was growing immune. Elijah, meanwhile, placed his fingers on the edge of the couch, squeezing the fabric and making me jump. "I do not understand your animosity toward Elena," he said with a bemused expression to match.

Was he stupid? "She killed Bekah!" I stretched out my palm over to her for a high-five, and she gladly accepted. "She wasn't there for Caroline when her dad died, and she's a bitch."

"Grace!" Elijah rebuked sharply as Kol continued to chortle and Bekah grinned without shame. Even Klaus smirked a little bit. Although he didn't want her to die, because of his stupid hybrids, he didn't _like_ her. I still remember when he slapped her across the gym. That wasn't a sign of friendship. "I thought I told you not to swear, and you do _not_ call people names of that variety."

"Well, she _is_ a bitch," Bekah agreed, and Elijah shot her a dark look for undermining him. "What? She daggered your baby sister, does that mean nothing to you? I detest Katerina, but even she is more tolerable than _Elena_."

"I like Katherine," I chirped. Klaus made a choking noise and grimaced. He needed to let his beef with her go. You'd think murdering her entire family, including her kid sister, would be enough to cool his temper, but he only managed to pardon her a _week_ ago. I liked to think that I was improving him. It made me feel all special and important.

Since Elijah was still a little miffed at me, I readjusted to peer up at him with hopefully innocent blue eyes, since it buttered up Klaus so well. I batted my eyelashes at him to secure the proper effect. "Are you taking Katherine to the dance?"

Some of his annoyance simmered away, and he smiled weakly. "No, little one. Elena is attending. Our guests would be quite confused, I think."

This was an easily solvable problem. "So uninvite Elena and invite Katherine." That also meant that Damon wouldn't show up, since apparently he had a screwed up relationship with the Petrova vampire, and that was a plus on its own.

Elijah was shaking his head before I even had the chance to finish. "That would be rude."

That made utterly no difference to me. "So?"

He drew in a deep breath, and I stifled a groan when I realized this was turning into a lecture. "Grace, this family has a plethora of negative traits that I do not have the audacity to deny, but we are not rude."

Unable to help myself, I eyed both Kol and Klaus a little skeptically, the latter chuckling at my disbelief. "Yeah, you disturbed little canine," Kol taunted, "we aren't rude."

Elijah sighed, Finn scowled, and Klaus fired a black glare at their cheeky little brother. "Kol," they all snapped in unison, and he held up his hands in surrender.

Rebekah, deciding that it would be wise to change the subject, said to me with a false perkiness, "I still think it would be exceedingly adorable if you invited Rohan to the ball."

I didn't want to do _anything_ that one might consider "exceedingly adorable." That sounded disgusting. "Who is Rohan?" Klaus demanded immediately. I stared at him like he had grown a second head. What the hell did he mean? I'd been talking about my new friends all week to anyone who would listen, including Klaus. I'd mentioned all of their names, too.

Surveying the room, even the rest of the Mikaelson clan looked a bit bewildered. "My friend," I answered, not knowing what else to say.

"Rohan is a boy's name," he said slowly.

Was he having a mental breakdown? He was really old, too, maybe he had Alzheimer's. Could vampires get Alzheimer's? That would be depressing, being eternally forgetful. "Yeah, my friend is a boy," I replied like he was the biggest idiot I had the misfortune of stumbling across, which was seeming to be closer and closer to the truth.

This, apparently, was foreign news to Klaus, even though I'd told him so before. And . . . he freaked out. "You let her befriend a _boy_?" All but pushing me off his lap, he sprung to his feet so both Kol and Rebekah had to bear witness to the full force of his heated glower. Rudy jumped back onto the couch now that his seat was open.

Kol didn't even dignify him with a response, instead choosing to drink directly from the bottle of alcohol instead of his glass, but Bekah gaped at his irrational reaction. "Nik, he's nine years old!"

That was not the correct way to calm him down. In fact, it was like adding water to an oil fire. The veins in his neck pulsed. "You let her befriend an _older_ boy?!"

"I told you this," I said quietly, feeling a sharp pang of hurt. He hadn't listened to me. This had been so important to me, and he hadn't listened to me. It wasn't just once, either. Each time, I had chattered with excitement and he gave me a lot of "yeah's" and "mmmhmm's" and "oh, really?'s" that in hindsight reeked of disinterest, but I lapped it up. "You weren't listening." It was a statement, not a question.

"Grace, this is hardly the pressing issue," he said dismissively, literally waving me off. "If I had known that this comrade was a boy, then obviously I would not have endorsed this friendship -"

"I thought you were listening," I said with equal delicate softness as before. "You weren't listening at all."

"That isn't important right now," he bit back, impatient.

Behind me, I heard a swish of liquid and glanced around only to witness Kol passing the bottle to Elijah, who took a swig and proceeded to pass it to Finn, who took a bigger swig, and Finn handed it off to Rebekah, who drank a solid quarter of the bottle. I wondered if they would let me have any, in order to survive Klaus's crap. I was only eight, but this situation seemed like a solid exception to the rule.

"But . . ." I trailed off, my throat tightening with the familiar telltale swell of tears. I gnawed hard on my lower lip to keep them at bay. "It - it's important to me."

Rebekah must've gathered a good look at my crumpling face, because she did her best to end the conflict before it truly began. Klaus didn't notice, too carried away in his overprotective rage. "Nik, this isn't the time for this. Let's let this rest for now, yes? We have to finish preparing for the ball."

He ignored her. "I refuse to let this be. My fosterling will not be in the presence of a devious, unscrupulous _older_ boy who will lead her astray -"

"You didn't listen," I whispered, a little heartbroken.

An expression of slight remorse shadowed across his features, and his fury lessened. "I listen to you, for the most part," Klaus tried, carefully maneuvering around what he accurately assumed to be a potential meltdown. " _Occasionally_ , there are other matters on my mind, but -"

I cut him off, too frustrated to listen to what would've been a lame excuse anyhow. "More _important_ matters?"

Klaus had the opportunity to redeem himself, but he declined it. "Well . . . yes."

Yes? _Yes?_ What was more important than _me_? He wanted to adopt me, but he cared more about his hybrids and his revenge plots and his constant sense of betrayal than _me_. Kol released a muted groan, and Rebekah slid a tired hand down her forehead. Elijah reached for the bottle again, and Finn cast his gaze downward. They knew that this wasn't going to end well.

Whatever happened, I refused to let myself cry. After Kol made a stray comment about me crying all the time, I vowed to stop, even though both Elijah and Bekah had gotten bent out of place when he said so. I was tough. I was the toughest person I knew. Klaus didn't deserve my tears.

Who did he think he was, anyway? First, he marched in and ruined what had been a fun conversation by shouting at Bekah, and now this? And a week ago, when Elijah got on my case for being "disrespectful," it was _Klaus_ who had gone out of his way to provoke me, but they still blamed me! He was so . . . so _infuriating_!

"It's important to me!" I yelled, bolting upwards, thankful that Elijah didn't hark on me for the "excessive volume" that he didn't like me using. "It's important to me 'cause I don't have friends! I didn't have friends my own age since I killed my uncle but I do now and - and you don't _care_ -"

"I care," he quickly assured me, like he was offended that I'd ever be convinced otherwise. "I would rather you not befriend an _older boy_ who undoubtedly has evil intentions, but I do care."

He was trying to brush this off like a joke. But I refused to be written off, like I always was. "How do you expect me to tell you stuff when y'don't even listen to me? You want me to tell you crap about my mama and my uncle, but this is why I can't! You don't care about anything I say!"

After I supposedly loosened my lips a week ago when I was falling asleep and aired a few secrets about my mama - still not the worst truth - Klaus had been digging me almost nonstop for more information. Every time he grew more insistent, I grew more resistant. He promised I could tell him anything, but he didn't even listen to me! "Sweetheart -"

"No!" Furiously gesturing for Rudy to follow me, I stomped out of the den and slammed the door behind me so hard it came partially off its hinges. My eyes popped wide open, and I steeled myself for a hoard of backlash, but there was only a tense silence. "Uh, you loosened it first." Hauling up a confused Rudy, I ran like hell upstairs to my room, then remembered that the Molotov cocktail was inside and smelled bad, so I set Rudy down to do whatever he set his doggie heart to and climbed out my window instead.

Scrambling up the side of the house instead of down it like normal, I crawled onto the roof and pouted at the misfortune of my life. Soon enough, someone was going to yell at me to get down and then once I was down, yell at me for breaking the door. I didn't mean to. I didn't. Klaus just made me so mad, and when I got mad I didn't know how to control myself. Elijah seemed to think I didn't try that hard, but I did.

I just got so _angry_ all the time. It felt like every other minute I was either crying or shouting, but it was never enough. It never discharged even a fraction of the turmoil boiling inside of me. All that helped, really, was violence. Setting my old house and Stefan on fire helped. Breaking the door was nice. Imagining throwing the Molotov cocktail at Esther, and watching it engulf her with orange tendrils, felt _good_. No, _all_ of them. For the briefest of seconds, I envisioned the whole Mikaelson family caught ablaze for what they'd done to me, Klaus in the hottest and brightest wall of flames. For the shortest of moments, I wanted them to all die.

And then, of course, I felt terrible for even thinking that. What was _wrong_ with me? Why couldn't I be _normal_? I was so full of sweltering fury and festering hate, and I had no idea what to do with it. All I wanted was for someone to listen to me, to _really_ listen to me. Klaus claimed he wanted me, but I was an afterthought at best.

Beyond frustrated, I tangled my fingers in my hair and tugged on the ends, scraping my heels against the coarse roof material until blood bubbled under my tender skin. Drawing in my knees to my chest, I buried my head between them, and was tempted to simply roll off the roof and let one of them deal with the consequences.

Before I could put my masterful plan into place, a figure lifted onto the roof, and I was prepared to scream and shout and let it all out, but it turned out to be Finn so I relaxed. If it were Klaus I would've probably attempted to dropkick him off the roof. I doubted it was possible, but the thought of it was kind of funny.

"Hello, Grace," Finn said, lowering him down next to me much more gracefully than I had originally.

"Hi, Finn," I sighed, then swiftly tipped over sideways and rested my head on his knee, since I decided I wanted a pillow. If he was surprised, it only lasted a beat, because then he petted my hair like Klaus had done earlier. "Everyone's mad at me, huh?"

"No, not everyone is mad at you," he countered, but his wording struck me as a bit off.

"So _someone_ is mad at me?"

". . . I wouldn't say Niklaus is exceptionally pleased, but he was not to begin with, so you are mostly blameless."

I scratched my now dried fingernail along his tuxedo pant leg, forming random patterns along the fabric. "Mostly?"

"You did break the door, Grace," he said gently.

"I didn't break it _that_ much," I mumbled. Trapped in a fit of soundless resentment, I jerked away from him and pressed my fingers hard against the roof shingles, wooed by my urge to cause more destruction, itching to crumble the structure beneath my hands and destroy its very essence.

"Grace, why are you so angry?" He sounded calm. That was the worst part of it, because I was jealous. He had been locked in a coffin in nine hundred years, and he was _calm_. How did he do it? He rubbed my back soothingly, like Elijah had done after he saved me from the rattlesnake. "And do not tell me it is only because Niklaus ignored what you told him about your friend. You were angry since the very first minute I met you, and you have been angry ever since."

"I can't stop it," I whispered, feeling like a failure for reasons I couldn't describe. "It's - it's too much, I dunno how to stop it."

"You need to stop trying to do this on your own, Grace," he replied, still even and serene. "You're a child -"

"Don't say it!" I begged, stuffing my face in one of the bent elbows of my folded arms. My voice came out all muffled. "Not you, Finn . . ."

"What do you mean?" At least he had the decency to ask before jumping down my throat. I appreciated that more than he would ever comprehend. "Please don't hide your face, I want to hear you."

With much difficulty, I lifted my head and turned it towards him. "Everyone thinks 'cause I'm a kid I'm dumb or crazy or that I don't make any sense. But - but I have feelings too, and - and they matter to _me_ -"

"They matter to me too, Grace, and no matter how Niklaus behaves, they matter to him as well." He caressed my cheek with his knuckles, and I smiled at his tender touch. "I did not meant to imply that because you are a child that your emotions are irrelevant or irrational, but that you should not have to deal with them alone."

". . . Oh."

I didn't _want_ to deal with all of my problems alone; I had just gotten used to it, that's all. Daddy never let me talk to him about my mama stabbing me or my uncle hurting me, because it disgusted him and riled him up. He told me I couldn't share it with Samara or Keisha, because they wouldn't understand. I didn't trust Paige's pack enough to air my secrets, and so I kept them locked inside.

To think, Caroline was the first person who listened to the story of my uncle and mother in full. The first person who cared enough _to_ listen. I'd always be grateful to her for that, because it allowed a portion of a year's worth of building anguish to unhinge itself off my chest.

As much as telling Klaus or Finn or Bekah or some Mikaelson what happened _might_ make me feel better, it still set me on edge to even consider it, so I changed the subject, lowering my voice to match in case we were being eavesdropped on. "Did you talk to Esther?"

His jaw clenched and his posture stiffened, and now he was on edge too. "We exchanged a few words before I went to find you," he murmured, keeping it neutral.

I scoffed a little. "What few words? Thank you? Happy birthday? Merry Christmas? There are a lot of words, Finn."

He didn't express even a smidgen of amusement, which was what I'd been aiming for. "She . . . alleged to be devoid of any malicious intentions, and also asserted that she would prefer for this evening to be without notable event."

Would it be smart for me to spill the beans that I believed Esther magicked a snake on me? What if he thought I was lying? I didn't think I could stand that. It wasn't like I had any proof. If I told Klaus my theory, he'd view me as either dumb or insane - if he didn't already. And maybe it was dumb and insane, I didn't _know_ \- but I felt. And I felt like it was the truth.

"D'you think she's lyin'?" I wasn't sure what I'd so if he said no. If he said no, then I was alone on this. And I was sick and tired of being alone.

He drew in a long, thoughtful breath. "I do not believe that she has no malicious intentions. Her past behavior and . . . plotting has demonstrated otherwise."

I could've sighed with relief, but I didn't, because technically this wasn't a good thing at all. "D'you think she's gonna do something tonight?"

He sat there for what could've been seconds, minutes, or even hours. By the end of the spell of silence, I was twitching impatiently. "I do not know," he eventually said, which was completely unhelpful, but I liked him a lot, so I didn't say so out loud. "I suppose we should be prepared."

I squirmed a bit, uncomfortable with the whole lying-to-Klaus situation. Because he'd find out. He always did. And then it was _my_ ass on the line. He wasn't very sympathetic to my excuses, for the most part. Even if I used Finn as a human - or vampire - shield, he still wouldn't be able to protect me from Klaus's wrath. "You real sure we shouldn't tell Klaus?"

"If it is nothing, then we would be concerning him for no reason," he insisted softly, still taking heed not to catch his siblings' attention from inside.

"And if it ain't nothing?"

He was quiet.

* * *

I slipped back into the mansion and kept my head down to avoid another fight. Bekah ended up tossing me a bone and paraded me into her bedroom along with my dress and her hair supplies, locking the door firmly behind her. "No unwanted, paranoid, possessive hybrids in here," she muttered.

I was sort of banking on Elijah or Klaus getting hung up over the door and banning me from the ball, but neither said anything. Were they planning on acting cautious around me now? I was prone to mood swings, but I wasn't _contagious_. And Klaus was probably super duper moody way before he met me, so it didn't even count. If anything, he gave it to _me_.

"You are going to be the belle of the ball this evening," Bekah declared, running her brush through my hair after forcing me to sit in front of her vanity. Upon glaring at myself in the mirror, I looked even more grumpy than usual.

"No, I won't," I retorted, then caught myself when I realized how snippy I sounded. "You'll be there."

She had to pause for a quick second to beam and smooch me on the cheek three and a half times, making those obnoxious kissing noises that I swore were only in the movies and leaving lipstick stains behind. I scrubbed them away with my palm, grossed out. "You're a gem. An absolute little gem."

I smirked. "I know."

"This dance will be more exciting than you predict, I promise you," she reassured, resuming the process of smoothing out my blonde locks, the bristles of the instrument tickling my scalp. That was what I was _worried_ about. Because Esther had the potential to make the ball very . . . exciting. "There'll be lovely music and such glamor. You'll feel like a princess."

"I don't wanna be a princess. I wanna be a dictator."

". . . That's nice, little love."

Now that my waves of hair were all pretty and shiny, she began the task of twisting two thin strands into intricate braids, weaving in tiny white flowers that matched my Casper the Friendly Ghost shade of skin and "made my eyes pop." Once finished, she tied the two braids together so a single curl trailed down the center of the rest of my finally tamed mane. "Beautiful," she gushed, propping her hands on my shoulders and grinning at me over my head. "Now, your dress."

"Isn't the dance in, like, three hours?" I protested lightly. "Why do I need to wear it now?"

"Because I said so." Whelp, that was that. "When you're all done up, it's my turn, and believe you me, that will last most of the three hours."

"And I need to be there for that _why_ . . . ?"

She took extra care to flick me on the forehead and away from my hair, so she wouldn't mess up all of her hard work. "Because you're the only other girl in this insufferable house, and you will help me, hell or high water."

" _Ugh_ , fine."

Bekah gained her own personal little doll with me, and it was pretty obvious that she enjoyed it enormously. Tossing my clothes aside carelessly, I stepped into the lilac-colored dress and let her tug it up up my skinny frame. Zipping up the back, she adjusted the lacy straps and then bid me to do a twirl. The fabric ballooned at my ankles, flying all around, and she clapped joyfully.

"You are _utterly adorable_. Hold still, I'm taking pictures. Smile for the camera!" I plastered on a fake grin as Bekah relentlessly spammed her camera button, then admired the photos afterwards. "You are too cute. I must forward these."

"Wait, _no_ -" Without my permission, Bekah sent the pictures to - I craned my neck for a sneak peek - Caroline. I hadn't realized Bekah and Caroline exchanged numbers; it was a nice surprise, even though there had been no text conversations between them before this. They weren't _friends_ , but they were on the bridge _to_ the bridge that might pave into them becoming a bit more than catty acquaintances.

Caroline responded within seconds with: _OMG she is sooooooooo adorable! U have to take another picture at the top of the stairs_

Rebekah appeared a little frankly impressed as I grumbled. "That's a good idea," she acknowledged, but Caroline wasn't finished typing yet. She topped off her message with: _oh u srisly need to take a pic w/ her and Klaus that would b TOO CUTE i cant stand it fhabfhbsadvbfaubad_

I wiggled my eyebrows at the phone screen, extremely pleased. My ship was sailing. Even Bekah emitted a thoughtful hum. Caroline wasn't done, however. Another typing bubble popped up, and then came: _i mean you dont have to take a pic of Klaus too lol that was more of a joke than anything_

And then the backtracking went full throttle, as Caroline's neurotic alter ego took the reins of the conversation:

3:56 PM ~ _lol i was kidding u know that right?_

3:56 PM ~ _like i dont expect you to take a picture with Klaus and Grace that would b weird i dont know why i said that_

3:58 PM ~ _Rebekah r u there?_

3:59 PM ~ _Rebekah u aren't showing him this r u?_

3:59 PM ~ _Rebekah!_

4:00 PM ~ _REBEKAH I SWEAR TO GOD_

4:00 PM ~ _REBEKAH I SEE UR READ RECEIPTS I KNOW UR READING THESE U BETTER NOT BE SHOWING THESE TO HIM THERE IS A FREAKING GIRL CODE OK ILL BLOCK YOU IM NOT EVEN LYING !_

4:01 PM ~ _REBEKAH OMFG IF I FIND OUT U SHOWED HIM THIS ILL DRIVE OVER THERE AND KICK UR ASS I DONT EVEN CARE IF UR A BILLION YEARS OLD ILL DO IT I COULD DESTROY THE GOD OF FRIGGIN WAR RIGHT NOW_

Rebekah and I collapsed onto her bed in a fit of wild, girlish laughter. Between her peels of giggles, she had a clear enough mind to warn me against ruining my hair against her mattress, but she evaporated fairly soon after that. I had never seen her sound so carefree and young before. It was beautiful.

A knock rapped on the door. "Should we all be expecting a plot of global denomination from you two?" It was Klaus.

"Oh, bugger off," Bekah said, laughter still quivering through her torso. "Gracie's in her dress, and you can't see it until tonight."

"I hardly see why that is fair. This isn't a wedding, there's no tradition that dictates that I can't see my fosterling before a _ball_."

Seeming to comprehend that this was an argument she was destined to lose, Bekah hopped off her bed and unlocked the door, not bothering to open it up for him. He accepted the unspoken invitation and turned the handle, pushing in. My first thought was that he looked incredibly handsome. Evidently, he'd been fitted for his tuxedo in the last matter of minutes, because he was all decked out. My second thought was that I still wanted to punt him across the mansion.

He lit up at the sight of me, which _might've_ softened me a tad. His lips parted into a full-blooded, genuine grin, and I had to repress an answering smile. "You look positively adorable."

"She does, doesn't she?" Bekah said dreamily.

Okay, people needed to find a new adjective to describe me, because "adorable" was giving me hives. "Spin for me, sweetheart," Klaus commanded.

Blushing slightly, I rotated around on my heel, my skirt flaring out again, and if it were possible, his grin stretched wider. "Marvelous. You must save me a dance, Gracie."

The game plan was that I was Finn's date. Klaus invited Caroline, Rebekah invited Matt, and Kol invited Aashi. That left Elijah and Finn without dates, and it was decided that it would be easier for Elijah to politely ask a stranger to dance than it would be for Finn, so here we were.

The thing was, I didn't even know how to dance. Kol, who prided himself in being the best dancer in the family (although apparently this wasn't a universal family truth, according to all of their disagreeing to his claim), offered me a lesson, but within the first fifteen minutes it became undeniable that I wasn't picking it up, so he told me to wing it. I wasn't certain what "winging it" meant in the setting of a fancy ball, but it was all I could do.

"I guess so," I sighed, choosing not to forgive him quite yet.

"What do you mean you _guess_ so?" he demanded.

"I _mean_ I guess so!"

Before we could begin to quarrel again, Bekah cleverly intervened. All but standing between us, she waved her cell phone in his face and distracted him from presumably launching me off a tower. "Caroline wants a picture of the two of you. Shall we give her what she desires?"

Klaus's entire aura altered. No longer was he a proud papa duck surveying his cute little duckling, he was a tiger prowling through the forest, hunting, striped fur and hardened muscles rippling beneath the moonlight. He was honing in on his prey, except she was prancing in and out of his reach, narrowly escaping his claws, and he _loved_ it. "Her wish is my command."

I didn't get the chance to uppercut him (which was mildly disappointing) before he lowered himself onto the mattress and wrenched me up onto his lap. Bekah aimed the camera at us, and he demonstrated his best Mikaelson smirk instead of smiling and saying "cheese" like a normal person, and since I wasn't normal either, I mimicked him perfectly. Smirking herself, Bekah sent the picture, and a reply soon shot back.

 _ok that is super cute like i didnt ask for it but im not going to lie its super cute_

Klaus peered over Bekah's shoulder to see what she wrote, and snorted. "Tell her that her grammar and punctuation are atrocious." Bekah did exactly that, and it didn't require a lot of imagination to picture Caroline's colorful outrage. Her next response was cool and crisp.

 _Tell him that I am perfectly capable of texting with flawless grammar and punctuation if I so decide to, and that he can keep his judgmental opinions to himself._

"That's my girl," he murmured, and I internally rejoiced.

* * *

Three hours later, the first guests started milling in through the open front doors. I wrinkled my nose at them. Did they not understand the concept of _fashionably late_? Nerds, all of them.

It _had_ taken Bekah the whole stretch to get ready. It was mind-boggling, especially considering her final hairdo wasn't that complicated. She straightened it and put pins in strategic places, but other than that, kept it down. Her dress was gorgeous on her, though - a dark, forest-green that floated into a mermaid-style skirt past her knees and gave her all the beauty and class of a noblewoman. Her makeup wasted about a half hour, and when I asked if I could have some too, she was gleefully in the process of reaching for her mascara when Klaus boomed from another floor that if she even went near my face with her makeup then it would be the last thing she ever did. So no makeup for me.

It struck me once again how insanely good-looking the Mikaelson sibs were after they were all in their tuxes and dress. It just wasn't fair to everyone else. Weirdly enough, I had never run across an ugly vampire. The Mikaelsons, Caroline, the Salvatores, Katherine. It was like beauty was a necessary vampire ability. I supposed Mikael wasn't drop-dead handsome, but he _was_ dead now, so . . .

They hired a _live band_. I wondered if they were compelled or paid. I hoped they were paid, because they weren't half bad. Except it was classical music. I didn't _hate_ classical music, but it was kind of boring. I doubted I could convince Elijah to blast something fun, like dubstep.

My feet throbbed already. My flats were a little too tight and they cramped my toes, but _were_ pretty, the same hue as my dress with bows on the top. I was still tempted to throw caution to the wind and hide them somewhere, maybe let Rudy chew on them (he was sleeping somewhere upstairs), but Elijah would have my head, and I liked my head.

I didn't recognize _any_ of their guests so far! Who the hell were these people, anyhow? They couldn't have been friends with the Mikaelsons because they didn't have friends. Especially human friends. I hid in the loaded, bustling kitchen so I didn't have to greet anyone who wasn't compelled. What was the point in inviting a bunch of useless strangers? I heard one of them call a woman "Mayor Lockwood." Why was the _mayor_ here? If they forced me to talk to the mayor, I'd just about die. Politicians were even more boring than classical music.

I slipped around the corner to catch a peek at the increasing crowd and huffed at the sight of Damon Salvatore strolling in. He sparked a conversation with a middle-aged woman that he seemed to know decently well. He handed her a glass of what Klaus informed me earlier was champagne. "Hello, Carol."

"Hello." They clinked glasses, and I almost fell asleep right then and there. Why couldn't something _interesting_ happen?

"Hanging out with your new besties?" Damon asked teasingly. What besties? The Mikaelsons? I couldn't believe that they'd be friends with _her_. When had they spoken with her? I didn't realize how out of touch I was with the town's affairs until now.

"I'm the mayor, Damon." Yuck! The already bland conversation took a turn for the worse. "When the oldest, deadliest family of vampires moves into your town, you welcome them with a smile."

A bloody smile, more like. One Mikaelson or another would find a reason to tear her threat out, since she was a human leader. "Well, they aren't _all_ vampires," Damon pointed out. "They have that little wolf cub in their midst."

"They were quite tight-lipped about her," Carol Lockwood admitted, and I smirked at _that_ reveal. "And yet she's met nearly everyone of Tyler's friend group, I've heard, including _Alaric_ of all people. I didn't know it was possible for child werewolves to exist. I can't help but be curious."

My smirk faded. She was right, it shouldn't have been possible. At first, it tickled me that I had squeezed into their conversation, but now I wished it would end. "You're not missing much. She's a bit of a terror, honestly," Damon said bitingly, and a crack jutted through the kitchen doorway that I leaned against. _Asshole_ , I thought with a scowl. "I mean, I've lost count of the times she's attacked Stefan. I'm pretty sure she set him on fire? _He's_ fond of her, bizarrely. He thinks she's endearing."

Stefan liked me? D'awwww, I could've sworn that he loathed me! What a sweetheart. "Anyway," Damon continued, and like a swinging pendulum, I was in the mood to kill him again. "At least you know who you're bowering that cup of sugar from."

"I'm trying to protect this town," she said with a determined set of her features. "They've assured me they wanted peace, and I've assured them that I'd enforce it." I found that funny. What exactly would she do if they ruined the peace? Wag a finger at them? Klaus would snap it off, eat it, then spit it out at her.

Kol glided up to them, and reached for Carol's hand, planting a kiss on the back of it. "Mayor Lockwood," he greeted smoothly. "We haven't formally met. Kol Mikaelson. I hope your lovely town embraces us just as much as we plan to embrace it."

If that wasn't a threat, then I wasn't sure what was. It was _wonderful_. And Mystic Falls wasn't a lovely town at all. Kol and I both agreed it was excruciatingly dull. It was basically Satan's armpit. Damon, meanwhile, moved in for a handshake. "Damon Salvatore. Have we met?"

Kol eyed his outstretched hand icily, letting it hang there. "I've met a lot of people. And you don't particularly stand out." I had to stop myself from doing a fist pump. _Get wrecked, Salvatore._ "I do have one thing to tell you, though."

Damon arched a sarcastic brow, his arm falling limply to his side. "Oh?"

Kol smiled grimly. "Insult my foster niece again, and I will personally eviscerate you." With that, he walked away from the pair, and I gaped, beyond overjoyed that Kol defended me. He headed straight for me, in fact, apparently having noticed my eavesdropping.

"That was so cool!" I squealed when he was close enough, flinging my arms around his waist and hugging the life out of him. He tensed, then awkwardly patted me on the back. In the background, Elena and Stefan showed up, and joined Damon. The two brothers escorted her in, which I thought was really weird, but it was their life, I guess. Wait, did she say _Esther's_ name - ? Shaking my head, I ignored them, since they were stupid and didn't require my attention. "You, like, totally burned him."

"I _could_ burn him," he pondered. "That would be entertaining." With a stiff, jerky movement, he pried me off him to a safe distance. "Nobody insults my family but me," he stated, brimming with his usual confidence. "Now. Let's wait for Aashiya, shall we?" He held out his hand for me, and I didn't miss the significance, since he had so purposefully avoided Damon's handshake. Gladly, I slapped my palm against his, and he led me out into the main ballroom.

I gasped when I saw Caroline waltzing in. She was a . . . a _queen_! The dark blue dress she chose and the shawl draped across her shoulders clung to her like magic, hugging her curves as if it were created solely for her. She might as well have been floating. Her blonde hair was tied up in an elaborate bun, individual yellow curls framing her lovely young face. White, elegant gloves covered her forearms, along with a sparkling diamond bracelet that I didn't recognize. She was stunning - a shining ray of angelic light.

"I should've stolen her when I had the chance," Kol murmured, and I elbowed him in the ribs. Klaus popped out of goddamn nowhere and made a beeline towards her. I didn't see his expression, but even _I_ sensed his . . . hungriness.

"Good evening," he drawled when they were within an arm's length of each other.

"Good evening," she said evenly. "Where's Gracie?"

He flicked a thumb over his shoulder, singling me out, and Caroline smiled as she identified me in the crowd. Grinning, I broke away from Kol and all but sprinted to her, wincing at the ache in my feet. She opened up her arms, and I dove into her embrace. Giggling, she whirled me around in a circle before setting me down again. "You, little miss, look so cute," she gushed, clapping her gloved hands together in excitement.

"You and Bekah picked out the dress," I reminded her, but still indulged her jubilance. "You look _amazing_ , Caroline." She beamed her thanks, tucking a stray lock behind my ear.

"I must concur," Klaus cut in, very blatantly admiring her, his gaze dragging her up and down her dress.

"Must you?" Caroline challenged.

"It would be a crime against the very fabric of nature if I didn't properly extol upon your exquisite, _divine_ beauty, Caroline," he said slowly, as if he were savoring every syllable as they flew from his tongue and sailed from his lips. A bright red tint colored her cheeks, and Klaus's responding smirk was devious.

"Crime against nature's a bit of a stretch," she retorted, but it didn't take a genius to observe how flustered she was by his compliment.

"I hardly think so," Klaus replied, and there was a husky note to his voice now. "I would wager you're capable of bringing down Heaven and Earth with nothing but a smile." If she blushed before, now she was the color of a fire truck.

"Ew," I mumbled at Klaus's cheesiness, and he patted me on the shoulder with enough force that my knees nearly buckled. I picked up on the warning pretty quick. He was wordlessly telling me to shut my trap and let him do his flirting mojo. _Oh whatever_ , I thought. I _did_ wish they'd start dating and get married already.

Thankfully, Aashiya's arrival was enough distraction for Caroline to avoid scrounging up a reply.

My jaw dropped as she entered the mansion. The girl looked like a _goddess_. It seemed that she decided not to wear the dress she bought during our outing, which had been a nice turquoise number, and that was unfolding to be a _fantastic_ decision because the dress she had on now blew the other one out of the water.

It was what I assumed to be a traditional Indian dress. The base color was a deep burgundy, but the majority of the silky fabric was coated with complicated, shimmering gold patterns and trimmings. Over her shoulder was a sash-like cloak, formed from the same glorious red-and-gold mixture. Her midriff was exposed, revealing a toned caramel stomach, a silver and gold flower-shaped jewelry item pierced into her belly button. Her jet-black hair was swept up into a neat bun and topped with gleaming, golden head jewelry that was studded with glittering rubies, the largest and most beautiful at the center of her forehead. A pair of long gold earrings and a similar gold, ruby-lined necklace that completely blanketed the region from her chest to the base of throat finished the picture perfectly.

"Holy crap," I heard Caroline breathe. Klaus's brows rose on his forehead once it became evident that she was headed for Kol. Kol, for once in his existence, was totally speechless.

Aashiya arrived in front of him, her high heels clicking against the polished floor. "Too much?" she asked a little sheepishly. "My mum told me that if I must go, then I ought to look good, so . . ." She gestured flippantly to her dress. "Ta da."

"You are . . . absolutely enchanting," Kol told her, and he sounded truly sincere, which I didn't think I'd ever heard before from him. "Your mother, of course, is my new favorite person."

She snorted lightly. "Thanks, I'll tell her that." Surveying the room, she loosed a low whistle. " _Blimey_. This mansion is worth more than me and all I will ever accomplish in my life." Kol's lips, which had been flattened in a studious, almost calculating line, tugged apart into a real grin.

I hurried over to the two of them around the same time as Elijah and Rebekah appeared, Klaus and Caroline trailing after me. Before either immortal could speak a word, Aashiya saw the three of us blonds and rewarded us with a lopsided grin. "Hello, Caroline. You're looking quite spectacular."

"Well, ditto," Caroline fired back.

"Hello, Grace," Aashiya hummed, and the closer I got to her, the more awestruck I grew. She, one hundred percent, could've summoned lightning from the skies with her baller goddess powers if she felt like it. "You look adorable." And there was that word again. When Elijah, Kol, _and_ Finn used the same description, I had banned it from the mansion for the rest of eternity - but Aashiya couldn't have gotten the memo, I supposed. "I can only presume you're now my baby brother's girlfriend. He talks about you _all the time_. It's a bit irksome, really."

"Oh dear lord," Bekah muttered, flicking her eyes up at the ceiling like she was willing God himself to prevent Klaus from blowing a gasket. "Not now -"

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Elijah said cordially to Aashiya right as Klaus opened his mouth to probably breathe fire, kissing the back of her hand. "You must be Aashiya - Grace and Kol have spoken quite highly of you." Aashiya cast Kol a smug glance and he smirked right back. "You look very lovely tonight - as do you, Miss Forbes," he had the grounded, polished expertise to tack on. "My name is Elijah, and I'm Kol's older brother. This is Klaus," he brandished a hand towards the Original Hybrid, who did _not_ look amused, "and he is also Kol's brother."

"Nice to meet you too. You're right, I am Aashiya," the girl replied with a pleased smile. "You can call me Aashi, if you'd prefer."

"I thought you said only friends and family can call you that," Kol accused with just a trace of outrage.

"And people I like," she corrected, then added mischievously, "so you can continue calling me Aashiya." He narrowed his eyes, and both Caroline and Bekah disguised laughter with poorly timed coughs.

"As much as I loathe to interrupt this conversation," Elijah said apologetically, although there was a hint of humor hidden in the lines of his stoic face, "It is time for us to address our guests as a family, so we must proceed to the staircase." He turned around and started the trek in that direction, Bekah by his side. Kol, huffing, moved to follow, and Klaus would have if he hadn't noticed that I was standing as still as a statue.

"Coming, sweetheart?"

I stared at him like he just announced he was pregnant. "Uh, no way."

"Grace, they're announcing the ball as a family, so you have to be there," Caroline said gently, nudging me forward. I rolled onto the balls of my feet and refused to be budged.

I whipped my head from side to side. "I don't wanna."

Klaus didn't even bother to argue with me. Instead, he simply dropped his arm under my butt and hoisted me upward, propping me on his hip and giving me no choice in the matter. He knew me too damn well. I squawked, but he merely carried me on as Caroline and Aashiya chuckled after us. I stuck out my tongue at them.

I sulked as Klaus walked up the staircase with me still locked safely in his clutch, snatching a glass of champagne while he did so. He wasn't intending on putting me down, that was for sure. I bet he thought I'd make a run for it. He was right, which sucked. I hated when he was right. He was wrong so often that it hit a nerve when he wasn't.

"You don't need to look so angry," he breathed into my ear, and I lightened up a little on the resting bitch face - that's what Caroline said Rebekah had most of the time, and I wasn't too far off. "I wouldn't want you breaking any more doors."

"You loosened it," I hissed, indignant, but his characteristic smirk tipped me off that he was only screwing with me. _Jerk_. "Jerk."

"Is that the best you can do?" he snickered. What an asshole!

"If everyone could gather, please," Elijah said to the attentive crowd, shooting us a look over his shoulder that commanded the utmost obedience. He lost the glare and transformed it into a charming smile when he addressed the guests once more. Esther slithered down the staircase to stand with us, and I swallowed a gag. "Welcome, thank you for joining us. You know, whenever my mother brings our family together like this, it's tradition for us to commence the evening with a dance."

"Well that's bullshit," I whispered, and Kol snorted from somewhere above me. Both Klaus's and Rebekah's slight hitches of breath announced their muffling of a laugh. Unfortunately, I'd forgotten that there were vampires mingled in our audience of lame humans, and both of the Salvatores' amused smirks and Caroline having to swivel her head away to veil her own chortle foretold Elijah kicking my ass all through Mystic Falls once the ball was over.

The look that Elijah sent me _then_ would cause grown men to sob and shit themselves.

"Tonight's pick is a centuries-old waltz," Elijah continued, sounding considerably more strained, "so if all of you could please find yourselves a partner, please join us in the ballroom."

Klaus set me down, and almost immediately Elijah lashed out a hand and grabbed me by the arm, sporting a thin, fake smile. "Come, I will lead you to the ballroom." I widened at my eyes meaningfully at Klaus, hoping for him to save me, but he lifted his shoulders into a tiny, graceful shrug, which I interpreted as 'you're on your own, kiddo.'

Elijah's iron grip was tight enough to practically shatter the bones in my arm, but he didn't let up as we traveled to the ballroom. In fact, if I hadn't been so focused on not losing the arm completely, I would've noticed Esther disappear back upstairs and Elena attempt to follow, only to be blocked by Damon. So, really, the fact that the evening ended so badly was Elijah's fault.

Elijah didn't say anything and I didn't either, but he didn't release me either, likely to _thoroughly_ remind me that he was close enough to strangle me if I felt like shooting my mouth off again. Once his fingers ever so slightly loosened, I pulled away from him and darted to Finn, moving as fast as I could without tapping into my werewolf speed. I all but crashed into Finn, ducking my face into his tuxedo jacket. "He wouldn't be upset with you if you didn't whisper such vulgarities," Finn said pointedly.

"Whose side are you on?" I grumbled. A prickling sensation blooming across my shoulders alerted me that Elijah was watching me. It was as if he didn't _trust_ me, which was _absurd_.

The musicians increased the volume and intensity of their playing, and all the guests filtered into two lines. I furrowed my brow in bewilderment as Finn positioned us next to Kol and Aashiya, facing the random couple in front of us. "Why're we all lining up?"

"That's part of the dance, Grace," Finn said patiently. He reached for my hands and held them oddly, but upon further examination I realized that everyone was doing that.

"How does everyone know how to do this?" I squeaked once we took the first step forward. "Was there some kinda class that I wasn't invited to?"

An ocean of chuckles flowed through the surrounding dancers, and I cringed. Apparently I was louder than I meant to be. Elijah was going to _gut me_ and wear my intestines as a scarf. I kept my gaze locked on the ground so I didn't have to handle the stinging heat that signaled Elijah's building glare.

We twisted in a different direction, Finn bowed his head at the other line, and I stumbled after him. Once we split off from the main line and everybody angled themselves towards their partners, I looked up at him sort of desperately, and he lifted me onto his shoes. I grinned, satisfied with not having to do any work as the dance continued.

"That's cheating," I heard Kol remark near me, and I made a childish face at him.

"Get bent!"

* * *

 **Klaus's Perspective**

Caroline was smiling at his little wolf cub, and his breath was swiped away from him. She was impossibly beautiful when she smiled, smiled earnestly. She lowered her chin and giggled, her tinkling laughter a symphony to his ears. Everything about her - her crown of yellow locks, her sapphire jewels of eyes, her porcelain skin, her quick wit, her unending kindness, her powerful mind - was his own personal melody.

She was a masterpiece.

"You're southern," Kol's admittedly attractive date needled his little one, who was propped on the overly indulgent Finn's feet. "Isn't dancing meant to be in your blood?"

"I'mma throw your tea in the harbor," the scrawny child snipped over her shoulder.

Caroline threw her head back and belted out another musical laugh, which Klaus couldn't help but reflect back at her; it was tantalizingly contagious. "Oh God," she said as she placed her gloved hand on his shoulder, and the touch kindled fire into the skin beneath. "I think Elijah's going to murder her."

Amused by her observation, Klaus located his noble older brother in the crowd, who did, without question, appear highly displeased with the errant baby wolf. "I wouldn't let him, no matter how tempting the notion is on occasion," he weighed in, and she grinned again - but this time, she grinned at _him_.

"I'm glad you came," he said, and her humorous smile ebbed into something sweeter _and_ saltier, a combination that was so brazenly _Caroline_.

"Well, I don't hate this _yet_ ," she replied with a feigned airiness. The twinkle that layered a tint of silver to her soft blue eyes had not yet disappeared.

"Ah, but the night is still young," he said teasingly, relishing in the smooth silk of her gloves against his rougher fingers. "I believe I expressed the sentiment before, but you do look ravishing in that dress. You have good taste, love."

"Thank you," she sighed, but there was a luminous glow to her cheeks that drew him in. "Miss Independent, I suppose. Rebekah wanted more of a say in the choosing process, but I insisted on picking out everything myself."

"Independence suits you well." And it did. It strengthened her call of womanhood, that sheltered and waited behind the girlish façade she was so accustomed to disguising herself within. "Although, I do remember putting the bracelet you're wearing at this very moment on your nightstand. _I_ chose that."

He would never willingly admit this to her, but after Klaus gave Caroline his blood on her birthday and Grace chirped that he ought to find her a better gift, Klaus had rummaged through the trinkets he had collected over the years and encountered a bracelet that once belonged to a princess. He decided Caroline must have it.

After all, she was a queen.

And now, she had it dangling across her delicate wrist. It fit her impeccably. "It matches the dress," she mumbled, looking anywhere but at him, her feet still toting her through the steps of the dance without a single flaw. "It wasn't a . . . conscious decision."

"Of course." She flashed him a quick glare, and he switched topic matters, intuitively gauging her spike of irritation. "You know, you're quite the dancer. I should have hired you earlier to give Grace a lesson or two." Halfway down the ballroom, Grace was still riding on Finn's shoes, not exerting an iota of effort and looking quite smug about it.

"First off," Caroline began with a dash of sharpness, gathering his full attention back toward her. "I wouldn't have accepted _payment_ for teaching that girl how to dance. I would've done it for free, because I like her a lot. And secondly, I've had training. I happen to be Miss Mystic Falls."

"I know," he said, and she quirked an eyebrow. "So, you would have reentered the snake's pit simply to teach Gracie a few moves?"

"Snakes are sometimes misunderstood," she said cryptically, and he was unable to fortify himself against the flicker of hope that formed within the crevices of his stone heart. "Sometimes they're not," she acknowledged, a pensive air about her. "I guess it depends on the snake."

"And who would you have sought to visit once you so valiantly leapt inside the misunderstood snake pit?" he questioned, purposely thickening his sultry tone in a manner that he knew would unsettle her. "Her, or me?"

Her carefully carved mask was undamaged by his less than subtle inquiries. She wasn't unsettled, like he'd predicted. She remained cool and unflustered, and that impressed him. "Mostly her," she responded, which didn't surprise him in the slightest, but he was caught minutely off guard by the impish essence that pierced through her mask. "But I suppose I could've slipped you in _somewhere_ in my timetable."

"Good," he purred in a voice scarcely above a whisper. "I would hope that there would be enough time for me to . . . slip in."

A quiet snort escaped her. She regarded him knowingly, but there was a flavor to her reaction of pursed lips that resembled a smirk. "You wouldn't be able to handle it," she murmured, and if he didn't know better, he could have detected a whiff of a challenge wafting from her and into him.

"Is that so?" he asked, a touch dangerously.

All she did was allow him a coy smile before she was whisked away to another partner, as the waltz dictated. To Matthew Donavan, Rebekah's date, he noted with almost a growl. He was simultaneously pleased and disappointed when little Gracie tripped into his arms. Pleased because he did love her a great deal, but disappointed because . . . he had wanted to see what Caroline would say. He vowed to continue their conversation, because for once, she wasn't viewing him with the typical accompanying tinge of disgust.

She was playing his game, and she was enjoying herself.

"What're you lookin' like _that_ for?" Grace asked of him, her suspicion lengthening the vowels of her southern accent. "You look like the cat who caught the pigeon."

He smiled down at her in a very different way than he had smiled at Caroline. "It's a canary, sweetheart."

"Oh who cares," she snapped, but he recognized her slight embarrassment. He narrowed his eyes in mild confusion as she grasped the ends of his tuxedo jacket, then realized what she was doing when she hopped forward onto his shoes.

"No, Gracie," he chided, adjusting her so her feet were back on the floor and pulling her into him so they did not disturb the rhythm of the waltz. "You are going to try to dance with me. None of that nonsense that Finn obliged you to do." Contrary to his words, he retained a fair portion of her weight with her clutching onto his arms for dear life.

"Really?" she said with one of her infamous pouts that even prompted him to cave on - rare - instances.

"Yes," he said firmly.

"Aw, shit."

" _Grace_." Klaus held nowhere near the same level of distaste that Elijah had toward Grace's penchant for crass language, but he did have his limits. "I will lead. It won't be as difficult as you believe it will."

Klaus boosted his speed in order to match the pace of the surrounding guests, and just like that, they were dancing. Grace wasn't as bad as she thought she would be - and not as bad as _he_ thought she would be. When he advised her to cease staring down at her feet and to sink into the flow of the waltz, she was quite the natural. "You're good at this," he complimented her, appreciative of her efforts.

It did not desert his notice that Caroline was stealing glances at the two of them over Matthew Donavan's shoulder.

"Don't talk, you're throwin' me off," she whined, sounding peculiarly anxious for the relaxed atmosphere of the dance. "I'll - I'll fall."

"I won't let you fall, sweetheart," he assured the frightened child. "I will catch you. I will always catch you."

"You promise?" she whispered. A pleasant warmth spread across him at how she clung to his hands, like he was her only lifeline, and she placed her utmost trust in him not to fail her. It was a queer sensation, someone believing in him so wholeheartedly. It was pure. He found that he liked it. No, he decided that he _loved_ it.

"I promise you, Gracie, I won't let you fall. I _will_ catch you. Always and forever."

She nodded then, and she continued with the dance, exhibiting her customary temperament of grit.

And he did not let her fall.

When the dance ended, he bowed to her, and giggling, she dipped into a fluid curtsey. He assumed her supernatural werewolf instincts contributed to the final effect of her gracefulness, but whatever the explanation, she took to it like a duck to water and he was proud of her. "Come, Gracie, let's get you something to eat."

"I'm not hungry," she said stubbornly.

Klaus swiftly rolled his eyes. He could hear her stomach rumble. He didn't understand why she was so obstinate, or how she was so inclined to slice off her nose to spite her face. "Yes, you are."

"Am not," she huffed, but she still lingered beside him, which demonstrated that she _was_ hungry, just refusing to admit it.

He should have had her fed beforehand, but after the quarrel they had a few hours before, the little girl had been avoiding him, for the most part. Now, she had seemingly forgiven him for the horrific sin of not allocating all of his attention to her every waking second of the day - but if he'd known she had befriended an _older boy_ , then he would have certainly listened to learn his motivations, and his weaknesses, and -

"Klaus." The appearance of Caroline immediately chased any and all toxic thoughts from his mind. "I, um, overheard that you were getting her food, so I picked a few finger food items off a caterer's tray." She cradled a stuffed mushroom, a deviled egg, and caviar painted over a cracker. Klaus stifled a chuckle when he saw how dubiously Grace eyed the food. "These are good, Gracie," Caroline attempted to convince her. "You can trust me."

"I have a feeling these types of appetizers aren't quite in her typical pallet," Klaus said, and instantly Grace glared at him, reaching for the food. She was remarkable, that one. She obviously didn't want to eat any of it, but the second he suggested what she was clearly _thinking_ , she changed her mind on a dime. Her spite would be the end of her - or the end of him, more like. "Suit yourself."

Grace snatched up the caviar spread, which he knew she would dislike even more than the other items, and popped it into her mouth. And then she choked, contorting her face into a repulsed grimace. Caroline struggled against twitching lips, smiling into her neck. The little girl's wide, frantic blue eyes scanned the area for a napkin, and he, censoring an 'I told you so', chastened, "Ah ah ah, sweetheart, you don't get to spit it out. Swallow it."

He would regret his word choice soon enough, even though it was innocuous on the surface, and why was that? Because of the most constant, recurring pain in Klaus's ass.

Kol.

Kol and his date emerged out of the woodworks at just the wrong moment, and the smirk pasted on his little brother's face warned of trouble. "Now, Gracie," he said as she gulped down remains of the caviar with a crinkle of her nose. "Ten odd years from now, boys might tell also tell you the same thing. Nik here is setting a bad example. You _don't_ have to listen to them, darling."

Caroline was the sole reason Klaus didn't snake out a hand and snap the little bastard's neck, then stomp his skull to pieces. She crammed the mushroom into her mouth and tilted away so, presumably, she wouldn't laugh. Klaus had to force back the familiar itch that always preceded the branching of veins beneath his eyes and the elongation of fangs inside of his gums. " _Kol_ ," he snarled.

"Why do I get the impression that you don't follow that rule?" Aashiya asked lightly. Kol shrugged, and she scoffed. "I hope you obey your own advice, sweetling." Her implication was as evident as it was vexing, especially with the matching smirk, and Gracie's expression of innocent befuddlement pushed Klaus over the edge.

"Run for the bloody hills," Klaus growled, and for once in his damn life, Kol listened. Grace opened her mouth, without a doubt to question what Kol had "advised" her, but Caroline took one for the team and jammed the deviled egg between the child's lips. She winked at him, and he smiled despite himself. He would kill Kol later.

* * *

 **Grace's Perspective**

Kol was a freak, Klaus was mad at him, and nobody would explain why. The deviled egg was a lot tastier than the black goo, at least.

I had no idea where the hell everyone was! After I finished snacking on better food, like the cute little sandwiches that lined one of the clothed tables, I decided that I was bored and wanted to hang out with someone. But Klaus had been dragged into conversations with some of the more important-looking guests, Aashiya and Caroline were chatting it up and since I was rooting for that friendship to work out I avoided them, Kol and Rebekah seemed to be conspiring when I last saw them a quarter of an hour before, and Elijah and Finn were missing.

Boo. The dancing was kind of fun, even though Klaus actually made me _dance_ while Finn copped out, but now only a few stray couples still loitered on the dance floor, so that was a no go.

In the end, I wandered down hallways in search of private entertainment, since I wasn't in the mood to deal with the guests - if Damon Salvatore said _anything_ to me, I'd break his face. Funnily enough, I actually hadn't seen him for a while. Or Stefan. Or Elena. Were they pulling some shit on us?

I was gonna hunt me some Salvatores.

And I found Elena. Close enough, right? Humming to myself, I altered my path towards her, but then Elijah was there and I was ducking behind a pillar. A couple strolling by fixed me with odd looks, and I testily waved them on. "Elena," Elijah began, and I didn't appreciate the scale of fondness woven into his tone as he uttered her name. "I understand my mother requested to see you."

Wait, what? I friggin' _knew_ I heard her say some crap about Esther! What the heck was that crazy old witchy bitch up to now? _Gawd_. "Uh, yeah," Elena replied, and she sounded incredibly uncomfortable. "Why, is something wrong?"

He hesitated. "Well, her ability to forgive my brother after everything he's done to destroy this family strikes me as a little strange to say the least."

Hooooooold up. He was suspicious of her? How _long_ had he been suspicious of her? He hadn't said shit! I mean, sure, I doubted he would confide in me of all people, but still. He hadn't said shit. That sneaky suit-wearing motherfu-

"Do you think that it's an act?" _Oh, shut up, Elena_ , I thought, done with her presence and hyperfocused on Elijah's shadiness.

He paused again. "It has me asking questions I never thought I'd ask." Was it a _big_ surprise that one of his family members was yet again drowning in treachery? Didn't that happen, like, all the time? Even if his dead mother had only been alive for a little over a week and she used to be all nice and dandy before, was it _really_ a shock that she was poised to flip on them? They were all manipulative jerks, maybe it was genetics. "Can I depend on you to tell me what she says?"

"Of course." And that was it? If he took her word on it, I'd punch his skeleton in. If he trusted her more than he trusted _me_ \- nada. I wouldn't stand for it. This was an injustice! "I'll find you later, okay?"

As soon as she strolled by, I stepped out from behind the pillar, and crossed my arms, showing Elijah how unimpressed I was. By the way he froze for a moment, it worked. "Grace -"

Shaking my head, I spun on my heel and ran - slow enough not to alert the other guests to my werewolf nature, but fast enough that they probably wondered what the hell set my ass on fire. "Grace!" he called after me, but I didn't stop.

This was turning into a disaster. I was never so horrified to be right. If Finn distrusted Esther, and I distrusted Esther, and _Elijah_ distrusted Esther, then there had to be a real reason behind the common denominator. A sinister reason. And I'd bet my entire life's savings - which amounted to nothing, but that was besides the point - that she was planning for chaos _tonight_.

I crept out of the mansion and into the back garden, where there were no occupants. The lovely area was bathed in moonlight, painting the flowers and grass silver. It was eerie at night, but I had to be alone. So I _ran_ , awakening my werewolf reflexes and blurring onward.

Finn could've been goddamn anywhere, and Elijah was all but placing his life into Elena Gilbert's hands. Those losers were going to screw us over - screw _me_ over. This was my job to fix this now. I had to fix this, but how, how, how, how, _how_ \- ?

A pair of arms wrapped around my waist, cutting off my sprint cold, and I would've screamed if a palm hadn't folded over my mouth. I struggled in the person's arms, punching and kicking and elbowing, when - "Grace, it's Elijah!"

He removed his hand, and I think he expected me to calm down now that he revealed his identity, but he only fueled my fight. Hissing, I swung my heels backwards and slammed them into his kneecap, and he groaned, but didn't release me. Furiously, I positioned my teeth over his arm and clamped down - on air, where his arm was a second before. " _Grace_." He sounded a little shocked. "Grace Sutton, stop this right now."

"Let me go, ya old stinkin' bastard!" Just like that, he let go of me, and I landed hard on the grass, sprawling over onto my side. In an instant, I was back on my feet and crouched into a defensive stance, growling in warning.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, completely thunderstruck.

"You're supposed to be the smart one!" I accused, beyond frustrated but still aware enough to keep my volume low. "But you _know_ \- y'know Esther's up to something, y'know but you ain't letting yourself believe it, and you're trustin' _Elena_ to help you out when we shouldn't trust Elena -"

"Grace."

"It's just my friggin' luck, that someone else is finally onto your freakoid mama's weirdo-ness, and then y'trust Saint Elena to swoop in and save the day, when she can't even be trusted not to stab you guys -"

" _Grace_."

"Like, she killed your sister, and you're chill with that? I mean, whatever floats your boat, but I think that's pretty uncool - you like _The Scarlet Letter_ , though, so I'm kinda used to you being uncool -"

"Grace!" He lunged for my shoulders, shaking me hard and snapping me out of my fit. "Speak coherently, please."

I remembered that day in the woods - damn, it was only six days ago, that was wild - when Klaus calmed me down by coaching me to count to ten and breathe. So I did that. I counted and breathed and counted and breathed some more. "Do you honestly trust Elena to tell ya the truth, 'Lijah?"

He sighed, and I felt his condescending (and I only knew what that damn word meant because I Googled it after Kol complained that Elijah was doing it to him) shift in aura like acid searing off my skin. "You do not know Elena like I do, little one -"

"She stabbed your sister, and she wants Klaus dead," I said coldly, fed up with his constant defending of her. "Stefan wants Klaus dead too, more than anybody. He still does, I know he does. Nothin' changed. I get Klaus ain't one of your favorite people, but he's one of _my_ favorite people. I care about this, even if _you_ don't. You trust Elena to - to care _more_ about tellin' you the truth than she does about killin' Klaus, and - and that just ain't right."

I waited for the moment where he would write me off, like they all did, ignoring my opinions and feelings because I was just a stupid little kid. But he didn't. He _didn't_. His countenance transformed, genuine concern and a drop of regret dominating his face.

He listened to me.

"You are speaking as if you're certain that there is no other explanation for Elena meeting with my mother than conspiring to murder Klaus." Well, so we weren't on the same page, but at least we were in the same library.

I waved my arms around helplessly. "And you ain't worried about that?"

He was visibly bothered, so I took that as a good sign. "Elena is honorable."

What really was honor, anyway? People like Elijah preached about it and sang its praises, yet once the curtains fell, they would be willing to discard it if it got them what they wanted or needed. Elena was no different. "So're you. And you do bad stuff anyway."

He swallowed, his throat bobbing at the motion. He didn't deny it. "She's young, pure - I can't believe she would guilelessly participate in a plot of this nature."

Why did he have to _like_ her so much? What was it about her, anyway, and the rest of the Petrova doppelgängers? They were pretty. Very pretty. But they also lied, a lot. It was practically in their nature to rip brothers apart. Tatia did it with Klaus and Elijah. Katherine almost did it with Klaus and Elijah, except Klaus was planning on killing her all along, but then finished the deed with Damon and Stefan. And now, Elena was following in her ancestor's footsteps and still screwing with the Salvatores.

Did Elijah love Elena? Was that it? Why he was so ready and able to buy into her lies, like her shit didn't smell? Because I couldn't think of another reason why he would trust her so doubtlessly. "She's young, yeah, but she already daggered you once before - when she was even younger, too." I heard that one from Stefan, actually, during our little road trip. I had no inkling why he mentioned that, or how it was brought up, but I was aware of the little incident at her lake house. "She got your baby sister to trust her, and when she was sad about Klaus killin' your mama and Elena was _comfortin_ ' her, she stabbed her in the back. She _literally_ stabbed her in the back, 'Lijah!"

"Niklaus has done that to us dozens of times, and with far less reason," Elijah argued, and it was so _tempting_ to lodge my teeth into his neck and inject venom into his stupid bloodstream - maybe, then, _my_ sense would pour into him and wake him the hell up. "And we've forgiven him."

There were some flaws with that concept, and I was more than happy to inform him. "Uh, well, Bekah hasn't forgiven him, so there's _that_." She seemed to both love and hate him. I wasn't sure if that would ever change. "And _you're_ the one who's been keen to be a goddamn doormat and keep goin' back to him over and over, when someone _sane_ would've left centuries ago!"

When I replayed the conversation in my head later, it struck me that I was being a little cruel. But I was so carried away by my own anger and heightened sense of self-importance, that it was only too easy to dish out a bowl of poison. I didn't even give him a chance to scold me for my language before I harked on him again, claws out. "So, that's _your_ rule, 'Lijah, the whole forgiveness schtick 'cause he's family. So follow your own stupid rule! He's family, and Elena's not." I softened my tone after that, because with every vicious word I spat at him, his expression closed more and more as he became more and more opposed to hearing me out. "If I were Elena, I'd wanna kill Klaus too. Hell, _I've_ wanted to kill Klaus before. Everyone and their dog has wanted to kill Klaus. So, you gotta - you _gotta_ realize it's possible that Elena's in there with Mama Mikaelson right now and doin' just that."

For a second there, I expected him to snap and unleash his wrath on me, pounding my ass into the ground. Klaus would've. If I had nailed Klaus with so many personal, raw insults, he would've probably kicked me to the curb - or shoved me into it. But I had been underestimating Elijah throughout the whole conversation. He wasn't stupid, and he wasn't naïve. He knew the score just as well as I did, and I kept on forgetting that. "How long have you suspected my mother of wrongdoing?" he asked quietly, but strongly enough to send the message that I wasn't gonna be avoiding this question on his watch. "Klaus has told me before that you have an uncanny intuition, where time and time again you've pinpointed someone's ulterior motives without truly knowing the character of said person."

Aw, Klaus said that about me? That was sweet. Extra sweet, since he was right. I had nailed Stefan, Damon, Elena, Esther, and even Elijah himself before. And the fact that he was basically asking for my _professional opinion_ was the sweetest of them all. "Since the morning I taught Finn and Kol 'bout technology."

I decided not to blab that when I _really_ started being suspicious was when I eavesdropped on the conversation between Finn and Esther where she all but declared that her family was evil. If Elijah figured it all out on his own, then Finn and I would be in the clear.

"That was almost two weeks ago," Elijah responded, and I couldn't judge if he was pissed or not because he was doing a fabulous job at his emotionless act. "And you have not said anything about it."

Well, now _I_ was a little pissed. "And how long have _you_ suspected her?" Silence. "Since the beginning, huh?" I added knowingly. Elijah was one smart dude. He picked up on crap. It was why I couldn't get away with anything, and it was why he couldn't convince himself to let this slide and just celebrate his mother's return.

It dawned on me. "You don't believe her. You never have." I bet he mistrusted her before even _I_ did.

He looked borderline despairing, and it wasn't hard to see how much this ordeal disturbed him. "I want to." But there it was - he _didn't_.

"It don't matter what you want," I insisted, _needing_ him to understand this and believe me. "What matters is that this is the way it is, so you need to deal with that."

Hope brimmed up inside of me. This could be it. This could be the moment where Finn and I didn't have to keep sneaking around and fretting over harsh truths, pretty lies, and shadow boxes. If Elijah took the helm, if he took charge . . . Esther would be done for.

And then he disappointed me. "There is no evidence of foul play," he said, and I wanted to cry. Because he believed me. I knew he did. So whatever he was playing at now, he was repressing his instincts and depending on his logical brain, which unfortunately for him, was _wrong_.

"You're hopeless," I declared, and I ignored the flicker of hurt that I perceived from him before he squashed it. "Goodbye, Elijah."

And then I bolted back inside, and slunk away to my room, slamming the door shut behind me. Only a few hours later did it cross my mind that I should've told him what I overheard, even if Finn made me promise not to. But I felt a futile, desperate need to protect Finn, and I refused to snitch on him, _betray_ him.

So, I was _alone_ on this.

* * *

 **Klaus's Perspective**

Klaus had been searching for Caroline for all of five minutes before he encountered her by the horses. He brushed by Gracie, who had charged inside and up the staircase like an angry bull, Elijah lagging behind with a pained expression. He concluded that all of Grace's smartass comments had caught up with her, and she poked the bear - his older brother - one too many times.

It occurred to him in hindsight that he ought to have investigated a tad more.

Klaus approached Caroline as she admired the creature's ivory mane. "You like horses?"

She didn't answer the way he expected her to, but then again, she never did. "Klaus, what is this?" She angled herself to face him, and gone was the cool yet charismatic mask she had been adorning all evening, gone was the flair of strategic flirting that supplemented it. In its place was raw vulnerability, but also a thread of steel that he understood was still her way of guarding herself from him. "I don't . . . I don't get what this is."

She was still so young, he had to remind himself. Eighteen. Barely at the cusp of womanhood. She had so much yet to learn, so much yet to see. He wanted to be the one to show her. No, he _needed_ to be the one to show her. "I fancy you," he admitted. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes," she said instantaneously, then dithered, succumbing to some trepidation. "No." Her eyelids fluttered shut. "I don't know."

This time, it was Klaus who didn't understand. "Why is that?" It seemed so apparent to him. So palpably straightforward. "You're beautiful, you're strong, you're full of light. I enjoy you."

She opened her eyes again, and swallowed hard. There was that conflict again, the conflict raging within her that defined his every moment with her. The conflict that surfaced when she deliberated about divulging Grace's secrets. The conflict that brewed when she wavered between liking him because of how he behaved around his fosterling and despising him for what he had done to her friends. The conflict that simmered when she had to choose between denying her attraction for him, or accepting it and moving forward. "I'm spoken for. By Tyler."

Klaus could officially concede that he had forgotten about the young, wayward hybrid until this very minute. _Damn him_ , he thought bitterly. _Damn him for still consuming her thoughts_. "But I thought you two ended things." They had. He knew they had.

"Yeah, because of you and your freaky sire bond with him," she bit, sounding harsher than she had all night.

"So, you aren't spoken for," Klaus summarized, and he was able to sense the throb of annoyance that radiated from her. "You know, horses are the opposite of people. They're loyal. My father hunted me for a thousand years and the closest he ever came was the day he killed my favorite horse. He severed its neck with a sword as a warning." For centuries, his siblings had thought him incapable of affection, but he had loved that horse, as much as he could love then. He shook his head, clearing his mind of those needlessly ugly thoughts. And his statement wasn't entirely correct. "Actually, I suppose not. The closest he came was when he stabbed Gracie in the back."

Klaus remembered how her eyes popped open, and how she careened forward into the house, crimson welling up around the steel that jutted out of her back. He had been _so certain_ that his father was bluffing, that he was agonizingly stunned when the man followed through.

He would remember that, remember his mistake, always and forever.

Caroline didn't seem surprised, but she did look angry. Furious, even. One of the Salvatores must have retold the events for her. It fascinated him, how protective she was becoming over his little wolf cub. "You know, I _would've_ asked you if you ever considered sitting down with your father and talking it out, but after he hurt _her_. . . . Fuck that guy, I'm glad he's dead."

Her abrupt, unprecedented use of profanity both startled and charmed him, especially since it was on Gracie's behalf. "I couldn't agree with you more, love."

She sighed again, her breath twirling from her mouth in ghostly wisps and tendrils. "I think I love her. Weird, right? I haven't even known her for that long, but . . . I think I do."

Without his permission, a fixture stormed through his stone heart, and threatened to split it wide open. "Gracie makes it incredibly easy to love her," he replied, keeping his features impassive as to not confess what had just happened, what burst of weakness had overtook him. "She has her fair share of faults, and yet in spite of them, or perhaps because of them, it is awfully difficult not to love her. Impossible, really."

She was quiet for a long while, lost in a contemplative trance. Her eyes were locked, unmoving, on the horse's coarse black fur, and yet by the glaze that leaked over the blue depths, she wasn't truly seeing at all. Klaus had the distinct impression that she was very far away, and dragging her back to reality might have a devastating consequence. For him or her, he didn't know.

Finally, as if it caused her untold agony, she tore her intense gaze away from the horse and back towards him. "Anybody capable of love, is capable of being saved," she whispered. "And yes, I do like horses." With her statement hanging thick in the air, she walked back toward the mansion without another word.

* * *

 **Grace's Perspective**

"Grace." I glanced up in surprise as Finn entered my bedroom, shutting the door behind him. There was a spot of urgency that tightened his features, and I rapidly sat up. "I believe my mother is planning on killing my siblings and me, and I believe her plan is about to be set into motion."

"I - _what_?"

I. Friggin'. Knew. It!

He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, and began to pace. "Elena has finished speaking to Esther, and I overheard her tell Elijah that nothing of note occurred and that my mother merely apologized for trying to have her killed, but I do not trust her word." And he shouldn't. Did Elijah? _Probably_ , I thought scornfully. "She was in the study for too long, and - and I _know_ my mother, I know her more than anybody else. She is different now, yes, but she is not apologetic. She never has been. She had an affair, she bound Niklaus's werewolf side, she turned us all into _monsters_ , and she never apologized to us, not once . . ."

His speech had morphed into anxious rambling, and I scooted off the bed, stepping in front of him and halting his frantic pacing before he could wear a hole in my carpet. "What're you sayin', Finn?"

He sucked in a trembling breath. "The champagne."

I clamped down on the urge to kick him in the shin and get him to start talking some sense. "What about it?"

Moving out of my way, he began pacing again. "When my mother first broached the idea of killing my siblings to me, I was . . . receptive." His shoulders slumped in shame. "It was before . . . before you displayed kindness towards me. Nobody had shown me kindness in a very long time."

I was silent and heartbroken. Nobody really understood Finn, I had come to realize. They thought he was dull and preachy and aloof, but all he truly wanted was for somebody to be kind to him. "During our second meeting, I," his voice cracked, and my mouth fell open at the flood of tears that coated his chocolate brown eyes, "asked her how she would do it, and she had proposed linking us all, so she could - could kill us more easily. What you overheard over a week ago . . . I changed my mind. _I changed my mind_."

I kept quiet, wary of interrupting him in the middle of his breakdown that seemed to be a long time coming. "But now she's seen Elena, and I know Elena has lied to my brother, and -" He sank to his knees, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and choking out a strangled sob. "I overheard her speaking to a server, and sh-she is planning on hosting a toast to celebrate our family's reunion, and I know that is a lie as well, because she is _disgusted_ by us."

It struck me, what he was trying to say. The easiest way to kill them all would be to link them, and she was preparing a toast to celebrate a family she despised, so it was all a ruse. And the toast would require . . . champagne. I didn't know how, but she was going to link them with the champagne. "Oh my God," I whispered, collapsing beside him. Desperately, I latched onto his arm and rattled him. "Finn, what do we do?"

"I do not know," he said despondently, tears spilling down his cheeks. "There are so many guests, so many witnesses. I cannot simply attack her, and if I warn one of my siblings . . . I'm afraid, Grace." Shocking me, he yanked me in for a hug and held onto me like his life was crumbling beneath his fingertips. Maybe it was. "I am so afraid that they will disown me, that they will blame me, even though I didn't _want_ this. I - I am so afraid they will hate me, because . . . I love them, even after all they've done to me, I still love them. I want to have my family again, and I'm afraid that I will lose them. I am so afraid."

As much as it would've been easier to freak out and start sobbing with him over the chaos of our lives, I knew that I couldn't. The burden of fixing this mess had now passed from his shoulders to mine, and it weighed down on me heavily. Finn was out of the game. He was in no position to tie his own shoes, let alone figure out a plan that would save his entire family.

It was my time to shine.

Mulling it over, I breathed deeply to calm my nerves and then smelled my solution - my secret weapon. A slow grin stretched across my face. Esther wouldn't destroy Finn's family - _my_ family. I wouldn't let her. "I have an idea."

Finn peered up at me through distraught, red-rimmed eyes. "Is it a good idea?"

I smiled crookedly. ". . . I have an idea."

* * *

Finn reluctantly agreed to my plan, because he had no plan of his own. It wasn't a great plan, but it would do in a pinch. I figured that if we tipped one of the other Mikaelsons off before the toast, they could very well confront her, and there was nothing stopping her from being a bitch and flinging magic at them or revealing that they were vampires to the entire crowd, since she had nothing to lose. And essentially everyone but Elijah would make a huge scene and confuse the guests. Yet Elijah wasn't an option either, because he didn't believe me earlier and I'd already sort of burned that bridge.

I had a brand new, ready to be used Molotov cocktail. I had originally brewed it to cause destruction in Esther's room and/or on Esther's person, but this was better anyway. Finn and I conspired that he would slip back downstairs, and I would wait until everyone was waiting to drink from the champagne glasses, then toss the makeshift bomb down the staircase to create a distraction. The guests, terrified, would flee - and wouldn't suspect anything supernatural, since Molotov cocktails were very _human_ \- and leave the Mikaelsons alone with their mother, without witnesses. At that point, Finn and I would spill the beans about Esther, and leave it up to the rest of them.

Finn didn't want anybody to be hurt, but I warned him that there were no promises. I would _try_ to avoid hitting someone with it - well, if I nailed Esther with the bomb, that might be the best solution but I didn't say so to his face.

Two birds, one Molotov cocktail.

I snuck along the hallway with the lit weapon in hand, sliding against the wall and waiting for my cue. Oh crap - I didn't have a cue! I shrugged it off. My best ideas were improvised.

My lips pulled into a fierce smirk as Esther stood on the staircase, clinking her crystal champagne glass. The typically yellow liquid was tinged with red - was that blood? Whose blood would it be? It hit me like an avalanche. _Elena's_ , that whore.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," Esther announced, and my pulse raced as I nervously debated when I should toss it. "Waiters are coming around with champagne." Should I launch it before they even had an opportunity to pass them all out? "I invite you all to join me in raising a glass." My fingers tightened around the glass as I raised the bottle above my head, clenching my muscles in preparation. "It provides me with no greater joy then to see my family back together as one -"

Oh, _fuck_ her.

I threw the bomb, and then there was fire.

 **A/N: Aaaaaand, cliffhanger. Sorry about that! Well, I'm not THAT sorry.**

 **So, a few things. Grace is very confident in this chapter that she is right, and while she mostly is, she's also not going about it . . . maturely? Elijah very much has a point that there is no evidence that Esther is up to something, because he isn't aware of any - since Grace isn't spilling the beans on what she heard. So, she's being a bit irrational by blaming Elijah for something he doesn't even know happened, but that's Grace for ya. And he does believe her, even if he didn't really say so.**

 **And yes, she made a Molotov cocktail. Do I think most eight-year-olds can make one of those? I highly doubt it, and I sure hope not, but that's some of the added humor of the story. Grace is weirdly diabolical and attuned to violence - a bit of a Klaus clone, if you will, no matter how much she would deny it. It's kind of a running joke in this story that Grace is always prematurely ready to hurt someone, so yes, she Googled a weapon and liked this one. I myself did a bit of research, and it actually isn't that hard to make - of course, I am NOT CONDONING anyone actually making one, and anyway, readers by now probably understand that nobody should, like, replicate Grace's decisions because she often makes bad ones.**

 **Did you guys like the Klaroline in this chapter? At the end of their horse scene, I did include a line she says in season 4 because the way my story is unfolding, that scene will not occur and I just LOVE that line and wanted it in my story, so huzzah! Anywho, please tell me what you thought! We all need to recover from the devastation which was the Originals finale. :D**

 **Also, I'd like to mention that one of the reviews for last chapter was pretty spot-on about a future storyline, and I won't say which review it is, but needless to say I was impressed... Anywho, I'm done rambling, so hit it off in the comments! XD**


	18. Hate the Sins, Love the Sinners

**A/N: Everybody clap your hands and say, "Who sucks?" I do, my lovely readers! It's me! All I can say is that it's my senior year of high school, and applying for colleges is not fun. I've been under a lot of stress lately, but I'd like to once again thank you SO MUCH for reading, favoriting, following, and reviewing this story. It means so much to me, they're like little glimmers of sunlight in my life right now. I treasure each and every review. Thank you thank you thank you!**

 **To make up for it, this is a pretty long chapter, I'd say. It's both dark but has some moments of comedy squeezed in there, because the Mikaelsons are so screwed up. And there's my very first Caroline perspective! Yaaaay! I hope I did her justice. And _might I say_ it gets a little smutty between Caroline and Klaus...**

 **All the reviews agreed that Esther is terrible, and I hate her too you guys, don't worry. I'm also really glad you're enjoying the Grace-Finn friendship, as well as the burgeoning Caroline/Aashiya/Rebekah bond. And of course, I'm so happy you're liking the Klaroline moments and Grace's interactions with all of the Mikaelsons. I love to write those.**

 **Ack, I've held you up for too long already. Thank you again, and please read, review, and enjoy!**

 **Warning: A little smut. And a past recollection of abuse to a child. OH, and for you Damon fans, Caroline doesn't think about him in a favorable light regarding her past "relationship" with him. In my opinion, he did abuse and rape her, so you have been warned.**

 **Disclaimer: Me=not owner of TVD or TO. Me=sad. I only own Grace and the Sureshes.**

 **Chapter 18: Hate the Sins, Love the Sinners**

 **Grace's Perspective**

I _missed_ her. How was that even possible? She was standing in the middle of the goddamn staircase, and although I'd never tell Finn and it was a little hard to admit to myself, I was totally aiming for her. And I _missed_. Maybe if I _hadn't_ been aiming for Esther, I would've nailed her. See, this was what I got for being a little evil. Karma bit me in the ass.

I hit _near_ her, though, which was a nice consolation prize. The bomb shattered about three feet right of her, and the fire spread hungrily, attacking the bannisters with a vengeance and cutting off Esther's bullshit speech. Then the screams of terror started, and a tiny, itty bitty droplet of guilt infused into my system when I realized that I caused them.

Whoops.

Cringing, I peeked over the landing and hoped that nobody was dead - well, nobody but Esther. The entire crowd hustled backwards with wide eyes and gaping mouths - the human guests, that is. The Mikaelsons, Aashiya, and Caroline all stepped _toward_ the danger, which was not what I wanted at all. They wore identical expressions of shock.

The force of the blast launched Esther sideways and into the opposite bannister, her body crumpling against the wooden bars. Was it enough to kill her? I sure hoped so. It wouldn't be as entertaining as the _splat_ that the explosion would inflict on her, but it'd do the job.

"Grace!" Klaus roared, and my heart stuttered to a stop. I hid when I threw it, how did he know it was me? I was screwed, I was so screwed - so, so _, so_ screwed. But it turns out, that wasn't the situation at all. He raced up the staircase, weaving around the fire, at the fastest, but most painfully human speed he could manage. He swept me up into his arms, shielding me from the wave of shimmering heat that radiated from the bomb. "Are you okay?" he demanded with a franticness that made me feel terrible for creating it in the first place. He cradled my face with enough force to kill a small deer, and there was genuine fear brewing in his darkened blue eyes. "Grace, are you _okay_?"

"I'm fine," I said quickly, inventing a lie on the spot. "I, uh, I don't know who did it, I heard it from my room and ran out, and - and there was fire and stuff." _Nice cover story,_ I praised myself, _keep 'em coming._ "I, um - I saw a man, but he was gone when I got here." That wasn't _really_ a lie. I did see a man. In fact, when I surveyed the crowd, I saw a lot of men. A man didn't toss the Molotov cocktail, but technically, I didn't say that.

"This was an assassination attempt," he snarled, squeezing me tighter, and I gulped. "I will find and _kill_ the perpetrator once the room has cleared and the fire has been extinguished."

Uh oh.

The guests fled in a steady stream as the fire flared brighter. Peering over Klaus's shoulder, I observed Kol and Rebekah ushering the people out, Kol all but shoving them through the front doors. Elijah had darted forward and rescued a limp Esther, the flames scorching the place where she'd just been. So close, but so far! Finn stood there, looking kind of lost, and Elena kept on gawking. The Salvatores filtered out of one of the hallways and moved next to her, equally gobsmacked.

Caroline and Aashiya were a different story. The former, despite the danger, still dodged her way through the fire and up the stairs. "Grace!" she yelled, sounding almost as distressed as Klaus had. "Grace!" When the hem of her skirt caught ablaze, a scream ripped my throat raw. This wasn't meant to happen! No, _no_ , she wasn't meant to be hurt, not _her_ -

"No!" Klaus roared, and the desperation in his voice drove me to tears. He set me on my feet, and rushed down to lift her onto the landing, then blurred down the hallway, returning with a vase as Caroline began to shriek, the fire licking against her vulnerable legs. He splashed the water against her legs, and I slumped in relief as it quenched the flames, leaving a smoking black patch on the fabric of her dress.

"Caroline!" I gasped, ambushing her with a fierce hug. Breathing out a strangled dry sob, she clutched me back. "I'm so sor-"

"Caroline," Klaus whispered, cutting me off and enveloping the both of us in his broad arms without a second thought. Surprisingly, Caroline didn't protest; she was _that_ shaken. "Caroline, are you all right?"

"I-I'm fine," she whimpered, trembling, and the following tears that glittered in her eyes broke my damn heart. What had I done? "Grace, are you okay?" she still found it in her to ask. I only nodded into her neck, too distraught to respond aloud. "I thought I saw you after the bomb landed, and I was so scared. . . ." Moisture spilled down her pasty cheeks, and she shakily brushed it away. "I'm sorry, I was just -" She broke off into sobs, and when Klaus tugged her head to his chest, she clung onto his tuxedo jacket.

"Don't be sorry, Caroline," he murmured, shaking his head even though she couldn't see him. "Never apologize for your courage."

I was officially a horrible person, and I hated myself.

A low chanting of Latin echoed from downstairs, and through watery vision I recognized Aashiya with her hands raised in front of the fire. The Latin was coming from her, and her cries increased in intensity as the fire did too. Kol popped next to her, and she fumbled for his hand, possibly to draw on him for extra power. The chants escalated to a strained screech over the crackling of the flames, and then it was all quiet, both her and the fire. It was gone, the orange inferno. It was over.

"Caroline!" Elena shouted, and I grumbled under my breath as she sprinted up the ashy steps, skidding to the blonde girl's side and recoiling once she noticed how Caroline was leaned heavily against Klaus. "Wh-what - ?"

Caroline pulled away from Klaus, embarrassed, and Klaus scooped me up instead, probably to have something to do with his hands and to avoid the awkwardness that Elena brought with her. "I'm okay, Elena, thanks for asking," Caroline sighed, dragging her fingers through her hair and sadly fingering the singed fabric of her dress. It had been so beautiful.

The Salvatores joined her with a burst of speed, but they didn't have a chance to speak before Elena honed in on Caroline's avoidance. "What were you doing before that girl put the fire out?" Elena asked a bit suspiciously, which I thought was bad timing, since Caroline could've burned to death - because of _me_ , I realized with a painful start. She lowered her voice, even though we could all hear her perfectly. "With _Klaus_?"

Caroline started scrambling to defend herself, then interrupted her own train of thoughts. "Hey, it's not what it looks like - wait, who cares what it looks like? I got burned, and it hurt, so sue me, Klaus hugged me and I didn't, like, stake him." Klaus practically glowed at what wasn't _really_ a compliment but wasn't as pointed of an insult she usually dealt him with.

Damon's lips curled back in disgust, and he sat back against the bannisters, scoffing. "Yeah, uh huh, a likely story. God, Blondie, you have terrible taste in men."

Steel straightened Caroline's posture, and just like that, she was finished apologizing and searching for excuses. "I dated you, didn't I?" she retorted icily, and Damon narrowed his glacier-esque eyes. "I'm really feeling the love, guys, thanks. Why are you still here?"

"Are you all right now, Caroline?" Stefan asked at the same time as Elena countered with a fair amount of hurt, "I'm just trying to protect you!"

"She's all right," Klaus answered for her with no small portion of smugness. "And I protected her, Elena, your expertise isn't needed here."

"Yeah," I sneered, readily jumping on the hate-Elena bandwagon, which I was pretty sure Rebekah invented to begin with. "All you're good for is stabbing people in the back."

Damon didn't waste any time before shooting me a poisonous glare, Elena assumed the image of a kicked puppy, and Stefan snapped his fingers in front of my face, making me jump a little. "Hey, knock it off with that," he chided, and I blinked, surprised.

Luckily, I didn't have to learn a lesson in respect or anything like that because Klaus grabbed Stefan's hand and crushed it inside of his fist. I winced at the following noise, a gross combination between crumbling and squishing. Stefan's face contorted in abrupt agony, and he dropped to his knees, into Elena's waiting arms. "Klaus, what the hell!" Caroline protested shrilly, but it fell on deaf ears.

"The day it is acceptable for you to put your hand in my fosterling's face and lecture her as if you have any authority over her is the day Hell freezes over," Klaus said coldly, dead serious. I masked a prissy smile. Elijah said a couple days ago that Klaus "enabled my bad habits." After learning what that meant, I was tempted to agree. "I still have not forgotten how you took her to Tennessee. You are on very thin ice, mate."

Damon had the unusual wisdom to stay silent, and Caroline seethed in a similar quiet frustration, but Elena decided to be vocal about her outrage. "How can you be so awful?" she spat at Klaus, and just as Klaus had sprung to my defense, a similar batch of protectiveness itched and unfurled underneath my skin.

Klaus was an asshole. Sure he was. No doubt about it. He was a regularly terrible person, and he wasn't even ashamed of it. And I complained an awful lot about it, because he was rude to me most of the time. His family complained too, but I gave them a pass, since he stabbed them all at one point or another.

But as much of an evil bastard as he often was, he was _my_ evil bastard. And no _outsider_ could be mean to him without me stomping them out like a bug.

Everybody seemed to forget that I was a force to be reckoned with - I wasn't a vampire, but I had the strength of a triggered werewolf, and that wasn't something to underestimate. Reaching for Elena's neck in a movement that was faster than what even I was used to, I ripped her away from Stefan and pinned her to the wall. She gasped at her sudden change in position, and then choked for breath as my fingers curled around her throat. "Don't you insult him in front of me," I hissed, saliva splattering all over her now frightened pretty features. Heat spawned from behind my eyes, and I could see a flash of gold reflected in her wide brown doe eyes. "It'll be the last goddamn thing you do."

A hand gripped steel onto my shoulder, and I heard the crack before I felt it - a second later, Damon Salvatore had been thrown down the staircase headfirst, courtesy of a snarling Klaus. My shoulder burned, and I squeezed Elena's throat tighter in revenge. She clawed at my hand, and Stefan was poised helplessly to save her, but Klaus barred his way. "You need to stop," Caroline pleaded, grabbing fistfuls of her blonde hair and ruining her hairdo. It wasn't clear who she was talking to. "First the bomb and now this? Seriously? What's even _happening_ right now? Gracie, stop, you're hurting her!" Hurrying forward, she knelt beside me and gently plucked my fingers off Elena. I let her, but only because she was Caroline. Elena slumped down, panting, and Stefan caught her easily.

Klaus brushed a stray lock from my forehead that had fallen loose in my ambush, and I felt pride rolling off him in waves. There was a soft smile hidden at the corner of his mouth, and it struck me how truly twisted our relationship was.

"This is so crazy," Caroline breathed, beginning to pace with an agitated vigor. I noted that she wasn't bending over backwards to tend to Elena. Maybe she was still pissed about her earlier questions, about why she was cozying up to Klaus. "This is _insane_."

"Did I miss someone hurting Elena?" Rebekah called up, now that the guests were gone and the fire disappeared. She seemed pretty careless, considering the evening literally went up in flames. I supposed that a thousand years dealing with bullshit gave one nerves of steel. It couldn't have been the first Mikaelson family gathering that ended like this. "Gracie, was it you? My spectacular niece!"

Scratch that, my relationship with this entire family was twisted.

"Are we all quite finished?" Elijah said loudly, interrupting all of our petty squabbles. He sounded extremely tense, and had a casual death hold on Damon, probably to keep him from killing me. His tuxedo jacket was missing, bunched up into a ball beneath Esther's head, who was lying unconscious on the floor. If he knew what she was up to, and what I'd stopped her from doing, I doubted he would've been so nice - he probably would have tossed her onto her ass and been done with it. "Finn is scouring the mansion for the perpetrator as we speak. Surely we have a more pressing matter to attend to."

As if on cue, the lot of us trailed down the staircase, Elena maintaining a pointed distance between us. I smirked at Damon's struggling figure. My shoulder felt fine now, but he could've hurt me. Sure, I was strangling his girlfriend - or his brother's girlfriend, whatever - but it wasn't very nice.

"Where's Matt?" Caroline asked, craning her neck to see if he was standing behind any of the vampires.

"I told him he should go home," Rebekah said with a touch of sadness.

"And he listened?" Caroline replied skeptically.

"I'm very persuasive," Kol butted in, providing her with his most charming smile.

"You threatened him," Bekah snapped, pouting.

"Semantics."

Now that Finn was missing and I was on my own, my heart stuttered and skipped a beat. Elijah gave me an odd look, probably overhearing. How long before he found out it was me who caused the explosion? I bet about five minutes, give or take thirty seconds. I was so boned. "So Finn's lookin' for the guy?" I said, nervous without his presence to safeguard me. He was the only one who knew _I_ threw the bomb, and who also knew _why_ , so he could explain to the rest before they crucified me.

"Yes, Finn is searching for the perpetrator," Elijah replied, still pinning Damon without even remotely breaking a sweat. "I highly doubt he stayed behind to watch the havoc he wrecked, if he had any semblance of intelligence, and I cannot hear him, but we must take precautions."

Considering I stayed behind to do exactly that, he basically just called me dumb. _Ouch_.

"He's gone," Klaus said, very confident in his conclusion. "About fifty miles away by now, I'd wager. He can run to the ends of the earth by tomorrow if he so chooses - he won't escape me." On that pleasant note, he unloaded his attention onto Aashiya. "You're a witch," he commented, and she arched an unimpressed brow.

"Astute observation," she remarked in turn, as glib as usual. "Do all of your parties end with explosions?"

"It's usually Nik stabbing me in the heart, actually," Kol quipped, and Aashiya had to perform a double take as she visibly debated in her mind whether or not he was joking or not. Unfortunately, he was not. "This one's new. Rather entertaining I daresay, too."

Aashiya balked. "Your mum's unconscious on the floor. She could have died."

"I see that."

"And this is still entertaining?"

"Tragedy can be entertaining."

Aashi screwed up her features into a tart scowl, and Kol grinned. "You're horrible."

"Why thank you."

Finn, meanwhile, returned empty-handed, covered from head to toe with false disappointment. "He's gone," he lied. "The scent has already begun to fade. He did not stay long." Elijah nodded, having expected this.

If Finn hadn't mentioned the damn scent, then our ruse might've lasted a little longer. But Klaus latched onto it like a baby to its bottle, and he didn't let go.

"In hindsight, I didn't detect a scent," Klaus said slowly, and I swore colorfully in my head for forgetting that he was the Original Hybrid, and he had a far better sense of smell than the rest of them. This was a fragile situation, and one wrong step would send it collapsing into dust. "And it would still be fresh, would it not, brother?"

Finn hesitated, and a shadow of suspicion crossed Klaus's face. "Perhaps the fire masked it," he suggested, which was reasonable enough. Reasonable enough for a _normal_ person, at least. Not for Klaus. "I caught a foreign scent, but the perpetrator is no longer here."

Klaus remained calm, but unmoved. "Is that so."

It wasn't a question. I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry.

"Elijah, would you please let him go?" Elena asked tentatively, watching as Damon flailed in Elijah's distracted grip. As much as she annoyed me, I thanked the high heavens for her interrupting Klaus's dangerous train of thoughts. Elijah glanced down at the raven-haired vampire in mild surprise, as if he'd forgotten that he was holding him at all.

"Oh, yes, do let the little Salvatore go." I peered over my shoulder and gaped at who the cat dragged in. Katherine Pierce, donned up in a tight leather cocktail dress - the same shade as black as her soul - and heels as tall as me. A confident smirk quirked her lips and her waterfall of brown curls bounced with every step. "He can't handle it. He has a weak constitution."

What. The. Hell. Why was _she_ here?

But did I really have a right to complain? As long as she distracted Klaus, I was as good as gravy. Sneaking a glance at Finn, he seemed to be in agreement, his shoulders lowering slightly with relief.

"Katerina," Elijah greeted, fascinated. He dropped Damon like he was a hot potato. Damon slipped into a coughing and spluttering fit once he connected with the polished marble.

"Katherine!" Stefan and Elena exclaimed in unison, the former confused and the latter horrified. I didn't even have to look in Klaus's direction to _feel_ his exasperated, impatient eye roll, and Bekah practically gagged.

"Don't you know?" the older doppelgänger crooned with a wink. "The party only starts when I walk in."

"What in the name of God's green earth are you doing here?" Rebekah demanded. I thought her tone was a little rude, but I was wondering the same thing. Why'd she always show up when nobody wanted her? It was like a magic trick. A really shitty magic trick. Yet, if she managed to draw Klaus's focus away from the main issue at hand, then it was the greatest magic trick I'd ever witnessed.

Now, Katherine was one of the most arrogant people I'd ever met - falling somewhere behind Damon and Klaus and Kol - but she was careful to position herself closer to Elijah and further from Klaus. If she said one wrong thing, he'd skewer her. I thought that was pretty clever of her - she survived this long for a reason, after all. "Well, I was in the neighborhood, and I was attracted to the sound of chaos. The _boom_ and the exodus of frightened humans were more entertaining than anything I had planned, so voila, here I am." She smiled innocently down at Damon, who was still sprawled out on the floor, groaning dramatically. "Eat any good books lately, Damon?"

Aashiya snorted, causing Katherine to snap her head around with narrowed eyes. "Did you seriously just quote _Star Trek_?"

Did Katherine Pierce, five-hundred-year-old vampire bitch extraordinaire watch _Star Trek_? Suddenly, my evening became a lot more fun.

Katherine sniffed, avoiding the question. "Who the hell are you?"

"Why are you really here, Katerina?" Klaus inquired at the same time as Stefan ground out, "Did you seriously come in here to to try and seduce Elijah after _this_ ," he gestured at the charred staircase, "happened?"

"Maybe I've gotten tired of chasing after boys," Katherine purred to Stefan, ignoring Klaus and all but draping herself over Elijah. He didn't look _displeased_ at the contact. I scrunched up my nose. You know, maybe I didn't need to tell them the truth about Esther after all. They didn't seem to care all that much that she was splayed unconscious beneath them. I suppose a thousand years of not seeing someone would do that. "Maybe I finally need a real man."

"As much I would enjoy watching you and my brother fornicate in front of my fosterling," Klaus began dryly, and Elijah promptly detached him from Katherine as Caroline muffled a giggle. What did _fornicate_ mean? It sounded science-y. Klaus knew a bunch of big words. He was a smart cookie, that one. "I would enjoy more knowing why you are in my home in the wake of a potential assassination attempt. Was it _you_ who caused it, love?" His voice was light but the underlying accusation wasn't hard to detect.

Katherine paled, and offered him her version of a self-assured smile, but it struck me as a bit anxious. "As I said, I was in the neighborhood, and I figured I ought to exonerate myself before you found someone to blame. Like little ol' me. Throwing bombs isn't really my style." Her sense of humor was more strained than normal; she still was afraid of him.

"Is suffocating people with pillows more your style?" Caroline said sweetly, and Katherine snuck her an almost unnoticeable glare. Almost.

Damon hauled himself up to his feet, and his nasty, smarmy smirk foretold a biting insult. "You threw a couple of bombs at Mikael during the Homecoming dance, didn't you?" Katherine frowned at him, a disgruntled crease forming between her brows. I only vaguely remembered her doing that - I _was_ busy bleeding out with a knife lodged in my back, after all. "Lying again, Katherine. Shocker." A malicious light entered his sharpened blue eyes, and I dreaded what he would spit out next. "You know, I hadn't thought you'd received an invite. I didn't realize Colossal Bitch was on the guest list, my mistake."

My feelings about Katherine changed with the seasons, but even _I_ didn't think that was super duper cool of him to say to her. If it was toward someone I hated more, like Esther or Elena, I would've laughed, but this was different. It made me a little squeamish, even if I was distantly glad that he was spiraling the group into a totally separate direction, far away from the "assassination attempt."

Katherine crossed her arms over her chest, accidentally - or on purpose? - pushing up her boobs in her anger, and Elijah's expression darkened. Klaus watched the pair of ex-lovers like he was observing a particularly intense game of ping pong. For now, I was in the clear. "You're even more of a dick now than usual," Katherine snapped. "Did Elena bruise your ego again?"

Elena glowered at her carbon copy, but I didn't miss Stefan's slight smile. "You're acting as if I'm the odd one out here," Damon crowed, and I could sense that he was moving in for the kill. " _You're_ lurking, because nobody wanted you here. Not Steffy, not Elijah. Nobody wants you anywhere. Huh, I didn't realize you could be so _pathetic_."

The barest hint of hurt tightened the lines of Katherine's face, and I was completely on her side now. Even Caroline, who had been _killed_ by Katherine, was giving Damon a look tinged with faint revulsion. Even _Klaus_ , who detested Katherine for centuries, didn't seem as amused as he could have been. He hated Damon too, so it was hard to tell who he was rooting for.

Elijah stepped forward, and brushed off an invisible piece of lint from Damon's tuxedo jacket, probably just for an excuse to touch him all threateningly. I hid a grin behind my palm. Elijah was going to _destroy_ him, and I had a front-row seat to what I figured ought to be called "D-D-Day": _Damon-Death-Day._

'Cept there wasn't a beach here. There was a beach in the real one, wasn't there? Elijah needed to teach me some more history.

Eljiah's tone was polite, as usual, but his words were delightfully venomous. "Damon, perhaps you could be so good as to prove to us that you grasp the concept of proper manners, because if you are unable to provide sufficient evidence of class, and continue to speak to Katerina with such disrespect, then I will be forced to pluck your heart from your chest and feed it to your brother."

God _damn_ , he was stone cold. Stefan and Damon grimaced at the ugly visual, and Katherine beamed bright enough to blind the sun. This was great; I was so here for it. The longer we stalled the whole bomb-thing the better. And if Esther woke up, all I had to do was kick her in the head a few times and she'd have a nice little summer nap.

"You didn't throw the bomb, Katerina," Klaus concluded, looking bored now with all of the drama. "Therefore, this conversation is ridiculous and unnecessary. Onto more useful subjects," he tilted towards Finn with a predatory scowl, like he was ready and raring to rip him to bits, a sharp contrast to his previous indifference, "why have you lied directly to my face?"

Ah shit.

Finn blinked. "Pardon me? I do not understand what you are suggesting."

Ah shit.

This was not good. No bueno. I waited on baited breath for the second shoe to drop.

Klaus didn't bother to clarify the reasoning behind his accusations. He held himself above that. That, or he was being an ass for no reason at all. Either one was believable. "There was no scent of an intruder. I would have noticed. Thus, you lied to me." He turned to me then, and my stomach spilled into my shoes. "And so did you."

Ah shit.

The silence was deafening.

 _Lie,_ the little devil on my shoulder cooed.

 _That'll make it worse,_ her angel twin lilted.

 _Do it anyway,_ the devil simpered.

 _He could kill you if he finds out you did it_ and _lied_ , the angel pointed out.

 _Oh yeah, that's true,_ the devil acknowledged. _Meh. Lie anyway._

 _No,_ the angel begged, _that's really not a good idea -_

I listened to the goddamn devil, since that was what I was best at. "I-I dunno what you're talkin' about."

Klaus looked like he wanted to slap me silly, so Caroline wisely wove herself into the confrontation. "You said there was a man, didn't you?" she asked me carefully, as if she was trying very hard not to wield judgement. "I overheard you tell Klaus that. You were the only one to see the man, though. Could you tell us what he looked like, or smelled like, or . . . or anything?"

She still believed me. That was the saddest part. She thought Klaus was wrong. She thought he missed something, and she wanted me to fill in the blanks.

But Klaus wasn't wrong.

Both Stefan and Katherine swiveled their heads to settle me with knowing gazes, and my blood ran cold. They knew. Of course they knew. I had set the fire in my old home without blinking an eye. They knew what I was capable of, and they had seen my face reflected in the flames.

I could do it again, and they knew that better than anybody there.

"It wasn't Finn," Kol declared, oblivious to the sudden, terrible tension between Stefan, Katherine, and me. "I saw him down here during the toast."

"So did I," Bekah agreed readily. "I don't know what he's lying about, Nik, but he was with us."

"Grace," Stefan said, a sort of gentle smile stroked forgivingly on his lips. _Fess up,_ _kiddo_ , he seemed to say. _There isn't another way out._ "C'mon."

"Stefan, what are you talking about?" Caroline asked - poor, sweet, trusting Caroline.

Stefan brushed off her question, never breaking eye contact with me. "C'mon, kiddo."

He was right. I was done for. My Judgement Day was upon me, and it sure as hell didn't look as forgiving as Stefan. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm really sorry."

They all twisted to face me very slowly, and looked at me like it was the first time they ever truly saw me - except Stefan and Katherine, who were resigned to my fate. "Grace," Elijah said quietly, with an expression of dawning horror. "Did you throw the Molotov cocktail?"

I nodded mutely.

Everybody reacted differently. Caroline gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Aashiya's eyebrows climbed up her forehead and all but met her hairline. Both Damon and Elena breathed an incredulous huff. Stefan wasn't surprised, and Katherine appeared actually impressed. Finn looked guilty that I was put on the spot. Rebekah froze in place. Kol was the calmest, the most unaffected - but he had a curious air around him. Elijah hardened, and any semblance of sympathy or affection he still had for me after I shouted at him earlier transformed into stone.

And then there was Klaus.

At first, his face was oddly blank. He stared at me with unseeing eyes, and I wasn't able to decipher the swirl of emotions that resided in them. Then came disbelief, followed closely by icy acceptance. That coldness melted quickly into heated fury, and I involuntarily took a step back. My throat tied itself into a knot and closed up. I'd seen him look at his siblings like that before, and his enemies. But only once before was it ever intended for me.

The only time he had ever looked at me with such blinding, white-hot rage was after I had tried to stake him, and he viewed me as a traitor, as someone who betrayed him. And then he had hit me, and frankly, I didn't think he was too far from that now. He had promised to never do it again, but in this moment, I didn't trust him at all.

"Oh my God," Caroline murmured, and I felt the guiltiest for what had happened to her. I hurt her, and I'd never intended to do that. "Oh my God."

"I knew she was a little sociopath," Damon said under his breath. I didn't understand what that was, but it was probably an insult. Fortunately for him, I had bigger fish to fry.

Read: Klaus.

"Were you trying to kill us?" Klaus demanded, and at first, I chalked him up to be his usual dramatic self, but then I realized that he was being serious. He actually thought that I had just tried to kill them - kill _him_. I glanced around at all of them, and almost choked at the suspicion that trickled into their countenances, even Rebekah's and Caroline's, however pained.

This was becoming very bad, very fast. "No, no, no!" I denied as rapidly as I physically could, before I was thrown in a moldy dungeon of some kind. "No, I was tryin' to make a distraction! I swear, I swear!" _Please believe me_. _You have to believe me. I don't know what I'll do if you don't believe me._

"A distraction for what?" Kol said evenly, his voice betraying nothing. He was calm, for now - and I locked onto that like a lifeline.

"Finn?" I prompted desperately.

Finn had the damn nerve to full-on hesitate, and I waited on baited breath for him to take over and save me from being murdered. As much as I loved to totter around in britches that were a little too big for me, I was ready for him to be the adult and fix everything for me. Because this wasn't turning out so hot. "She is right," he finally said, with his usual awkwardness, glancing at the still unconscious Esther delicately positioned on the floor underneath Elijah's coat. "We . . . planned it together."

That created yet another uproar from the surrounding crowd, only halting when Klaus blurred over and wrenched Finn forward by the lapels of his tuxedo. I bunched up fistfuls of my dress, feeling more anxious and helpless than ever. Yeah, I didn't want them to kill _me_ , but I didn't want them to kill Finn either. No killing today, please - unless it was Esther, that was fine. I'd even toss in Elena. I was that nice. " _What?_ "

"Niklaus -" Finn pleaded, grasping at his little brother's wrists to unhinge them as he was lifted onto his toes. Klaus didn't release him. Instead, he peeled Finn's hands off his sleeves like they were as flimsy as banana peels. "Niklaus, I can explain -"

"How have you manipulated Grace into assisting you?" Klaus bellowed, jerking Finn to and fro. Eyes flashing amber, he landed a punch against Finn's jaw, sending him reeling backwards. I flinched as part of Finn's cheek caved in, and his hand flew to cover the damaged area. "How have you manipulated my daughter into trying to _kill_ us?"

Daughter.

Hearing Klaus refer to me as his daughter still felt funny, even in the middle of his tirade. He sounded possessive, like I belonged to him, like I was a _thing_ and not a kid. And he was frightening me. I didn't feel like his daughter so much when he was this scary. It reminded me of the beginning of our relationship, when I was nothing more than a prisoner. His little comrade.

Only proving my point, Klaus grabbed onto Finn's neat brown hair and kneed him in the nose, smashing it thoroughly. Blood gushed down Finn's nostrils and dripped off his chin in fat crimson droplets. "Finn," I whispered, horrified. "Klaus, stop . . ."

Rebekah darted behind me and attempted to block my line of vision of the assault, but I dodged her and watched in useless terror as Klaus continued to assault the kind man who was only trying to cover for me. It had been my idea to throw the bomb. Finn hadn't even _wanted_ to. I convinced him. _I_ convinced _him_.

"Did you threaten her?" Klaus all but screamed at him, and tears flowed down my cheeks as he kicked Finn in the side with all of his might, crushing half of his ribcage and causing blood to leak from his mouth with the speed and volume of a faucet on high blast. "Did you hurt her? Abuse her? How did you force her into this?" Gripping Finn by the throat, he hoisted him high into the air again. "TELL ME!"

" _Your mom is trying to kill you all!"_ I shrieked, rushing forward and tugging frantically on his arm to get him to drop Finn. Klaus's head snapped down to me, and his fearsome expression warned me that I had all of a minute to explain myself. And that was being generous.

"Your mama doesn't forgive you, Klaus!" I yelled through my flood of tears, the secrets and lies and confessions rushing out of me in a tsunami of pulsing anguish. The dam had cracked, and I could hold it back no more. "A week ago, I overheard her and Finn talkin' shit about you and Elijah and Bekah and Kol. She wanted you dead. _All_ of you. Sh-she . . . she thinks you're monsters."

Sucking in a shallow, ragged breath, I looked around at the rest of the Mikaelsons. Elijah was entirely unreadable, but he was listening to me. Kol's typical carefree boyishness had drained from him, replaced with a quiet, dark fury - he believed me. Maybe he'd been suspicious too, all along. Kol was a lot of things, but he wasn't stupid. Bekah was struggling with tears of her own, and I think she believed me too.

I turned back to Klaus, and his pupils had swelled so wide and dark that his eyes had grown almost wholly black. "Only Finn didn't want to kill you, 'cause I was nice to him and he didn't want to hurt me, and - and he missed having a family." I clung to Klaus's jacket, searching for some faraway comfort that he wouldn't provide me. "She decided to kill y'all tonight. Finn figured it out only a couple minutes before the toast, I _swear_. She brought Elena in to take some of her blood or some shit and then put it in the champagne. It looks red, see?" I jabbed a finger at the liquid that had pooled all over the floor once the guests let them go after the bomb exploded. Elena swallowed hard. "Finn said that she was gonna link y'all with Elena's blood and I don't really get how that works but that's what the toast was for and that's why I threw the bomb." _To kill her._ "To distract her!"

If the silence before was deafening, then this silence was earth-shattering. I thought it would squash me beneath its weight.

Klaus released Finn and the older man collapsed like a stack of bricks. "Is she lying?" he asked Finn, sounding bizarrely cold and emotionless. Finn shook his head. Klaus's lips curved into a bitter smile. "Of course. I knew Esther's benevolent return was too good to be true." His fake smile disappeared as quickly as it arrived, and he snarled at me, "How long were you sitting on this information?"

I was sitting in the electric chair, and he had his hand on the switch. And I had to be awfully careful from here on out, because my electric chair was being lowered into shark-infested waters. I was screwed from all angles. "I heard Finn and Mama Mikaelson talk the same night Caroline slept over."

"You slept over here?" Elena whisper-shouted to Caroline, scandalized.

Caroline gaped at her. "Uh, 'Lena, now's really not the freaking time," she hissed back, and Elena clammed up, but not without an indignant glare saved for her blonde friend.

"So nearly two weeks ago," Klaus surmised, and his fingers twitched, like they itched to wrap around my throat and squeeze the living daylights out of me. "You knew for two bloody weeks that my mother wanted to murder us and you. Said. _Nothing_."

I stared down at my shoes, but Klaus marched forward, clasping my chin between his iron thumb and forefinger and forcing my head up so fast that my neck ached. " _Look at me_ ," he spat. I tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let me. Terror coursed through my bloodstream, and I started shaking. _Someone save me, please, someone protect me from him . . ._

When he was this scary, he didn't seem so much like a daddy. He was more like a father - _his_ father.

"I made her promise not to tell you," Finn confessed, his voice cracking hoarsely on the way out. "She wanted to, Niklaus, she very much wanted to - but I pushed her into promising not to, because I told her that I would handle it." He lowered his gaze to the ground, ashamed. "I - I did not handle it."

Klaus removed his hand, and I stumbled backwards, away from him. Far away. "So you _did_ manipulate her," he said dangerously. Much to my horror, Finn nodded.

Before Klaus could continue to verbally slash him to shreds, Elijah took the reins of the conversation. Rebekah was trying as hard as she could not to break down into sobs, and a stony-faced Kol had his hand pressed down on her shoulder. He was _comforting_ her - Kol, of all people. Oh God, what did I do? Aashiya was tentatively stroking Bekah's hair, and it must've been appreciated, because Bekah didn't rip her hand off at the wrist. "Elena, you told me that my mother wanted to speak to you because she wanted to apologize for attempting to have you killed."

Elena looked petrified with fear, and both Damon and Stefan shifted to stand in front of her, guarding her from Elijah. As if that would do any good. Caroline shook her head at Elena in disbelief.

"She lied," I put in helpfully, but that didn't help in the slightest, because even though Elijah was now discovering Elena's betrayal, he still was more than furious with me.

"Grace," he reproached, his tone as chilly as the Arctic breeze. "That is quite enough." I couldn't ward off a flinch at how dark and angry he sounded at me. "The adults are speaking, and you will be quiet if you have any sense of self-preservation left. If you decide to utter _one more word_ , you will sorely regret it."

I shut the hell up, because that voice was extremely familiar to me. A couple years ago, I was mad at Daddy for something or another. Sending me to bed without dinner, maybe, or scolding me in front of my friends. Whatever the reason, I was fuming, and made a very terrible decision. I snuck out later that night into the garage, where Daddy had been fixing up a car to give to Mama on her birthday. And then I proceeded to wreck it with his wooden baseball bat. I shattered the mirrors, the windows, the headlights, and was in the process of smashing the taillights when Daddy opened the garage door.

I still remembered his face as he said simply, "You're in for it." How it darkened shades within seconds, morphing from white to red to purple. How a vein thickened and pulsed on his forehead. In an odd little twist of irony, Mama was out at one of her night classes, and I probably would've been safer had she been there. She would've stopped him, stopped him from unbuckling his belt, shoving me onto the dirty garage floor and whipping me all the way from my upper back to my calves until I was hollering and weeping. He'd been drinking, so his aim was off. He liked to drink, even before Mama left.

When a trickle of blood had spilled down my left leg, he stopped.

That was the first time I ever saw my daddy cry, and boy, did he. He tossed his belt aside, and apologized over and over again through a series of gut-wrenching sobs, holding me to his chest in a hug that I wasn't sure was meant for me or him. He told me he'd never hit me that hard again, and he didn't. Sure, I'd gotten my southern ass beaten plenty after that, but not black and blue, and not up to my shoulders and down to my ankles, like he'd done that night. I hadn't been able to lay down much for the next week, and Mama screamed herself hoarse at him the following morning when she noticed the welts.

Anyway, my _point_ was that right now, Elijah sounded almost exactly the same as my daddy did then. I understood full well that if I pushed him any further, he'd ruin me. I didn't know if that entailed him lecturing me like he did before I went dress-shopping, shooting my brains out, or whipping me like Daddy had in front of everybody, but whatever the result, I definitely didn't want it. People didn't give him much credit for it, but Elijah was one scary dude.

"Oooh, Daddy's mad," Katherine crooned in what very well could've been an effort to lighten the mood, but also sent bile pooling into my mouth. Almost every single person in the crowd cast her a look of disgust - well, except Elijah himself. He was still furious at the situation, but his expression altered slightly, absorbing a different, unreadable kind of darkness, and even though I didn't completely comprehend the details of how adults fooled around, I could've sworn he was tempted to push her into a wall and kiss her. Katherine stepped forward and brushed her fingers along his jawline, but he snatched her hand before it could entangle itself in his hair. "Mmm, you're hot when you're mad."

"I will handle you later, Katerina," Elijah said lowly, and I wasn't sure what the hell _that_ meant, but it did make Damon groan.

Katherine waggled her eyebrows. "I look forward to it."

Damon groaned again, and this time Kol joined him.

"I-I'm sorry, Elijah," Elena said weakly, looking all the part of a meek little fawn being tracked down by vicious hunters. This is the only time that I'd be all right with them killing Bambi. "I'm so sorry. She coerced me into it. I-I didn't have a choice."

"I don't believe you," Elijah said, and the iciness that emitted from him was enough to make _me_ shiver. "I no longer believe a single word that exits your mouth." About damn time!

"You'll die for this, doppelgänger," Bekah promised furiously. Elena's heart fluttered in her chest like a hummingbird's wings. She was right to be freaked. Bekah _had_ been searching for an excuse to kill Elena, and this was an awfully good one.

Caroline was shaking her head again, but for a different reason this time. As irritated as she seemed with Elena, they _were_ still friends. "Klaus, please," she pleaded to the now silent Original Hybrid. "Don't let them kill Elena. You need her blood to make more hybrids, don't you? You need her alive. _Please_ , Klaus."

"I won't let you kill her," Stefan assured, as if he could stop them.

"Neither will I," Damon tacked on.

"You two, shut up!" Caroline all but shrieked. "You're making it worse!" She shifted her attention back to Klaus. "Klaus, please. . . ."

He didn't respond. I fought back another round of tears. I broke him.

"Uh, guys?" Aashiya probed, her hesitation all too understandable. "I hate to break up the murder fest, but I'm pretty sure your mum has been awake for the last ten minutes ago and is pretending to be unconscious so you don't kill her. Just an FYI."

Huh.

I didn't even get a chance to so much as blink before a wave of pure, invisible power flailed out of nowhere and pounded me in the gut, knocking me off my feet and throwing me backwards across the ballroom along with the others. I cried out as I slammed against a far wall, sliding down the plaster and hitting the ground with a hard thud.

Ow.

Black spots hopped all around me and the room spun in circles. I groaned into the floor, my head throbbing like nothing else. A blurry Klaus appeared over me, a thin stream of blood leaking from his scalp, and his lips moved urgently but I couldn't understand him. The world was curiously quiet - all I could hear was a faint buzzing sound, and I wanted to close my eyes, and sleep. Sleep, sleep, sleep . . .

"Grace," I heard, but it was distorted and muted, like it was echoing over a range of snow-drenched mountains from a thousand miles away. There was a soft crunching noise, and salty, metallic liquid dripped into my mouth, rolling thickly down my throat.

My ears tuned in again, and all of the action I missed came crashing into me. I sat up with a strangled gasp, and Klaus rested a hand on my back, balancing me in case I tipped over. There was screaming and shouting and raging and I tucked my knees into my chest, silent. Klaus left me there once I healed, and I crawled under a nearby table (which had to have been worth more than my old house), reminded sickeningly of the last time Mama and Daddy fought.

Esther had surrounded herself with a ring of fire, a barricade that Aashiya was trying valiantly to bring down with some kind of counter spell. Rebekah was screeching at her mother with tears glistening on her cheeks, and Kol attempted twice to break through the fire and throttle the woman, but she sent him flying back into Finn each time.

While we had been arguing, Esther must've been rebuilding her magic and waiting patiently to fling it at us. I should've said something sooner, when they still had a chance against her. She wasn't called the Original Witch for nothing.

This was all my fault.

Elijah was saying something to her, and it looked harsh enough, but I couldn't decipher it through the blood roaring in my ears. Elena was cowered away behind the Salvatores, who were inching ever closer to the front door, only several well-timed hissed threats from one Original or another stopping them in their tracks.

Caroline. Where was Caroline? I choked on my own spit at the thought that Esther hurt her. What if she injured her, or snapped her neck, or killed her? What if Caroline was dead? What if Caroline was dead and it was my fault? Sweet, kind, lovely Caroline -

A pair of gentle, feminine arms wound around me and coaxed me into them. I immediately relaxed. Caroline. Caroline was here. Caroline was alive. Caroline was safe. "Don't listen," she murmured, cupping one of my ears and pushing the other one against her chest. "You're okay."

I didn't realize that I was trembling furiously until her calm stillness pressed against my frayed nerves. All of the voices jumbled together and I buried my face into Caroline's shoulder.

"Murdering your own children would be an atrocity." Elijah.

"How could you do this to us?" Rebekah.

"I'll rip you to shreds, you old hag." Kol.

"She's too powerful, I can't get through." Aashiya.

"I'm so sorry." Finn. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

"We need to leave." Stefan.

"What were you thinking, Elena?" Damon.

"They're going to kill me." Elena.

"Damn straight." Katherine.

"I killed you once, I'll gladly do it again." Klaus, to Esther, who still hid behind her stupid wall of fire.

I tried to focus on Caroline's rhythmic stroking of my hair, her strained humming as she endeavored to mask the chaos with false cheer. Eventually, I only heard her slow, lazy heartbeat, and all of the other noises drowned into silence. Esther didn't call her children abominations and vow to end them once and for all. Kol didn't try to shove a shard of glass into her throat to return the favor, or hurl at her every horrible name in the books. Rebekah didn't collapse to her knees and sob. Finn didn't apologize again and again and again. Elijah didn't tell Esther that she was no longer their mother. Katherine didn't gleefully gloat that Elena would finally die. Damon didn't promise that if anything happened to Elena, he would slaughter Katherine. Stefan didn't snap at his brother and ex-girlfriend to shut the hell up, because he was thinking. Elena didn't say she should go outside and call Jeremy and tell him she loved him. Aashiya didn't yell herself hoarse as she chanted in Latin, pushing herself to overcome a woman that had invented the game she played. Klaus didn't vow to destroy Esther if it was the last thing he did.

And Esther didn't disappear, didn't pop into thin air and didn't escape, a black ring carved around where she had stood so tall and unashamed.

They didn't exist. They were gone, all gone. There was one person left in the universe, one person who mattered, one person who didn't abandon me -

"Don't leave me," I said.

"I won't leave you," said Caroline.

* * *

 **Caroline's Perspective**

Caroline liked to think she had a level head on her shoulders. Of course, there were plenty of incidents in her past to prove her wrong, a lot of them that her friends could totally use as blackmail material, but still, she liked to think she was grounded.

She _wasn't_ the ditzy, shallow cheerleader everybody thought she was. Well, she wasn't _anymore_. When she was human, she fit that description to a T, with the added bonus of endless insecurities and control issues. After she was turned into a vampire, as much as she was still pissed at Katherine for _suffocating her with a pillow_ , she honestly felt as though she was a better person. She was even more neurotic than before, sure, but she was also more comfortable in her own skin, more confident. Why wouldn't she be? She was smart, strong, and beautiful.

She was Caroline goddamn Forbes, and she was done being someone else's toy. She was a powerful, independent woman and vampire, and the world was at her feet. Finished were the days of being used and abused by Damon Salvatore, written off by her own friends, tortured by her father and shunned by her mother. She was more than that now.

So, why, oh _why_ , did she stay behind with Klaus after the disaster of the ball?

Everybody else left. Elena was one of the first to go, once she realized that she wasn't going to be killed for her transgressions. Not tonight, anyhow. They weren't in the mood. And what the hell was she thinking, anyhow? Talking to Esther on her own, and bargaining her own blood? Caroline was pretty sure Elena wasn't thinking at all. And _Caroline_ was supposedly the stupid one.

The Salvatores followed soon after. Stefan, who Caroline was still rooting for to win back Elena, went after Elena, but Damon was bent out of place over having his neck broken, so he flashed off in an opposite direction.

After Esther's betrayal was revealed and she literally _popped_ away, the Mikaelson siblings were soon to follow. Kol was first. He covered his stewing fury with a mask of indifference, but Caroline was good at reading people, and she saw through it. He blurred away to God knows where, and Aashiya stared after him, silently leaving to her car and driving off. Caroline didn't know if they would ever be seeing her again. A twinge of sadness tugged at her heart.

Next was Rebekah. As much as Caroline didn't like her, she couldn't ignore the stirrings of pity in her chest that formed when the blonde Original girl dissolved into tears, heartbroken that her own mother wanted her dead. Caroline could say without reservation that she truly felt sorry for her. Elijah attempted to draw his little sister into a hug, but she disappeared before he could.

Elijah followed soon after. As stoic and emotionless as he usually was, he was obviously affected by how the evening unfolded, and couldn't handle staying at the mansion for the night. Caroline didn't really blame him. Katherine tailed him, and even though Caroline never quite stopped hating her, she earnestly hoped that she could somehow comfort the old, elegant vampire.

Finn left too, probably feeling spurned by his family. Caroline hadn't even shared a single conversation with him, but he seemed to care very much about Gracie, so by default Caroline was at least remotely fond of him.

Then, all those left were Klaus, Caroline, and Grace.

Grace. Caroline still couldn't believe the little girl somehow learned how to make a Molotov cocktail, and tossed it down the stairs where the guests could've been seriously hurt, damn the consequences. Caroline could have _died_. Those burns had hurt like hell. She didn't know how to feel when Klaus saved her. Letting him pull her into a hug seemed almost . . . natural.

She sort of wanted to slap Damon for calling Grace a sociopath, but she supposed his callous conclusion wasn't _entirely_ unfounded, as much as it pained her to even think that. Gracie wasn't like other kids. She wasn't very sensitive to other people's feelings or well-beings. She was violent. A little malicious. A bit manipulative. A tad self-centered, although that wasn't by any means an uncommon trait in children.

But for all she'd suffered through, Caroline understood.

That little girl had been to Hell and back. Whenever Caroline mulled over what Gracie confessed to her that fateful afternoon, bile rose in her throat, and she felt the urge to vomit. First, her uncle made her watch _porn_ , and if it wasn't terrible enough to force a _seven-year-old_ to watch porn, he sat her on his lap too. If he was still alive, Caroline would punch his eyes into his skull and rip out his throat with her canines while she was at it.

Thankfully, Gracie didn't seem to understand what she saw, but she would one day, and Caroline dreaded that day. She _did_ understand that it was weird, and definitely understood something was wrong when her uncle decided he wanted to try some of the _moves_ on her, or so Gracie childishly recollected.

It was utterly horrific. What he was going to do to her . . . Caroline wasn't particularly religious, but she thanked every deity she'd ever heard of that Grace got away and locked herself in the bathroom. And then he threatened to _kill_ her? He was a pathetic rat bastard.

And then a week later, he stumbled upon another chance. The morning after she slept over at the Mikaelson mansion, when Caroline remembered that part of the story, she actually threw up. She blurred to the bathroom in her empty house and lost her breakfast, something she hadn't even thought was possible anymore. That . . . that fucking pedophile tried to - Caroline vigorously shook her head, ridding herself of those hideous thoughts.

She was glad Gracie killed him. He was a sick son of a bitch, and he deserved to die. But then her own mother stabbed her. Attempted to murder her own daughter. Caroline couldn't wrap her mind around it. She couldn't even begin to comprehend the mindset the wretched woman entered in order to commit such a heinous act.

Then, only a year or so later, Stefan killed Gracie's father, except apparently he was going to die anyway, because he sacrificed himself for her. How many times did the universe turn against that little girl? How many times did her world fall apart? In Caroline's opinion, it was a miracle she was as well-adjusted as she was.

She still needed some serious therapy, though.

All of those negative traits and bad behavior were absent from the kid as she stood there with her head bent, staring down at her shoes and looking incredibly small. Caroline wanted to envelop her in her arms and never let her go, like she'd done only minutes before, when the poor girl had hidden herself away under the table. "Klaus -" the little girl whispered.

"Go to your room," Klaus ordered emotionlessly, which Caroline doubted was a good sign, considering temper tantrums were a staple of his. The impassiveness wouldn't last. He was going to blow.

"But -"

His eyes glimmered amber. "Go. To. Your. Room."

Caroline winced, and that was the exact moment she chose to stay. She told herself that it was because she didn't want to leave Gracie alone with him when he was like this, but that wasn't completely true. She also didn't want to leave _him_ alone when he was like this. "Come on, Gracie," Caroline murmured, lifting the kid onto her hip because she sensed that Gracie needed some physical affection right about now. Klaus sent her an unfathomable look. "Let's get you to bed."

Avoiding the charred area of the stairs, she carried the unusually quiet and listless eight-year-old upstairs to her bedroom. Setting her down on the bed, she made a quick detour and compelled a maid - she was too tired to feel guilty over it - to lead Rudy the dog outside to do his business, then to bring him into Grace's room so she could have a little puppy TLC. Dogs made everything better, and the husky must've been terrified of the blast.

When Caroline returned to Grace's doorway, Rudy at her heels, her heart shattered into pieces at the sight that lay before her. Silent crocodile tears rolled down the child's ashen cheeks, and she peered up at Caroline with pitiful shiny blue eyes. Her lips wobbled furiously, and she burst into sobs. "Hey, hey, hey," Caroline soothed, flashing forward and tugging Gracie into her lap, wrapping her arms around her trembling shoulders. Rudy, whimpering, jumped onto her bed and nuzzled the girl with his nose. "It'll be okay. Everything will be okay."

"I-I ruined everything!" Gracie wailed, grasping handfuls of Caroline's already ruined dress.

Petting the little girl's hair and delicately removing the flowers from her braids, she assured, "You didn't ruin anything," although a nagging voice in the back of Caroline's mind reminded her that Grace certainly exacerbated the situation. "It seems bad now, but everything will be all right, you'll see."

"They all hate me now," Grace blubbered, desperation leaking into her tone. "Th-They're gonna get rid of me, they hate me -"

"They're not going to get rid of you!" Caroline denied, a little shocked at how sure Gracie seemed that the Mikaelsons would discard her. She was the poster child for abandonment issues. Klaus really needed to address that. It wasn't good for someone so young to be so saddled with insecurities. Caroline understood that very well. "And they _don't_ hate you," she added strongly.

Klaus appeared in the doorway and watched silently, looking considerably less angry than before. His icy visage melted at the sight of a hysterical, sobbing Gracie - and for the first time since she'd seen them together, Caroline honestly thought he looked like a dad. A concerned dad. "I m-messed everything up!"

Caroline met Klaus's somber gaze, and told him wordlessly through her eyes that he'd better get his ass inside and comfort his foster daughter. But he ignored her not-so-subtle request, and slipped away. Caroline furrowed her brow, equal parts outraged and worried. "You didn't mess everything up," Caroline said absentmindedly, staring at the spot Klaus was just standing in. How could he leave? How _dare_ he? "You didn't," she repeated more solidly when Grace's cries increased in volume and intensity, and resentment gnawed at her when Klaus still didn't return. "Esther did, not you."

What kind of mothers tried to kill their own children, anyway? Esther. Grace's mom. Caroline's own father tortured her because of something she couldn't control. Why couldn't parents just be . . . _good_? Caroline loved Liz Forbes to pieces, but they were hardly close. The woman was wedded to her work. She forgot how to be a good parent when Caroline was ten, around the time her dad left for Steven. She used to be a Daddy's girl, before he dropped their family, decided that he couldn't handle his only daughter as a vampire, and died.

Then there was Kelly Donovan, who was a shit show. Nobody knew where the hell Matt's dad was. There was Richard Lockwood, who bullied his son before he was killed. Carol Lockwood, who never quite closed the distance between she and Tyler. Giuseppe Salvatore was a dick, who _did_ kill his kids. Abby Bennett abandoned Bonnie, and Bonnie's dad was always on one business trip or another. Elena's parents had been good, genuinely good, but they were dead now.

Esther Mikaelson turned her children into vampires, and now she wanted them dead when she _created_ them. Mikael was a first-class prick. He abused Klaus, although Caroline didn't know the details. He hunted all of his kids for centuries. He stabbed Grace in the back without remorse. Caroline hoped that he rotted in Hell.

It was all too much. Caroline was tired, to put it simply. She was tired of being disappointed. She was tired of having to lower her expectations to adapt to these disappointments. She was tired of all the Mystic Falls' drama. She was tired of being tired.

But she didn't show it, because that wasn't in her nature. She buttoned up her exhaustion and her bitterness, because her friends didn't need it. One friend in particular - Elena. It struck her in that moment how much she had to reschedule and rewrite her life around Elena's. Elena was the star of Mystic Falls, and they couldn't help but orbit around her.

Caroline was tired of orbiting Elena.

"Shhhh, shhhh, shhhh," Caroline soothed as Grace continued to bawl, inconsolable. "It isn't your fault, sweetie. It's Esther's. You were just trying to protect your family." Sure, it would have been better if she had done so less destructively, but they couldn't reverse time and un-explode the cocktail. "You were brave."

"Klaus h-hates me!" That was what Grace kept returning to, and Caroline didn't have much consolation to provide. No, Klaus did not hate Grace. Far from it. He loved her; he adored her. But instead of walking in and telling her himself, the ass _left_ his distraught child to wallow in her distress. Caroline was half-willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, because he wasn't used to the wonders of fatherhood yet, but she decided not to, because that was still a dick move.

"He doesn't hate you, Gracie," Caroline said firmly, rubbing methodic circles into her back. "He loves you very much. He's just shocked and hurt about Esther, that's all." As the words escaped her mouth, a trickle of pity mingled with her basin of anger. He must've been beside himself with grief and rage. Obviously, he wasn't thinking clearly.

But why the hell was Caroline making excuses for him?

Grace didn't say anything after that, and Caroline didn't think that the little girl believed her. She cried and cried and cried until finally, she drifted off into a restless slumber, her reddened and tear-stained cheeks scrunched miserably. Sighing, Caroline tucked her under her sheets and blanket, dress and all. She gently scooted her shoes off her feet, and as she moved to place them neatly near her door, Rudy circled the sleeping child and curled around her, radiating a distinctly protective aura.

She sighed again and left the room, shutting the door behind her. Next stop: Klaus. With conviction laced into every step, she tuned in for a slow vampiric heartbeat, and marched in that direction, prepared beyond measure to give him a piece of her mind. More than a piece, really. How about the entire freaking thing?

She found him in what appeared to be an - art room? Sparing herself a cursory glance at the admittedly attractive paintings, she stomped over to him, his back facing her. "Hey, asshole," she began, choosing to forget the fact that he was a thousand years older than her. "I know tonight was a real blow for you and your siblings, I get that. Really, I do." There, now the quasi-sympathy was out of the way. "But you told me that you wanted to adopt Gracie, so you just left your daughter to cry herself to sleep. _Nice_."

When he didn't respond nor swivel around, she scoffed. Stalking around to garner a good look at his face, she opened her mouth to ream him out some more when she noticed the tears glistening on his cheeks. She shut up, stunned, and he furiously wiped them away, jerking his face away from her. "Klaus," she whispered. She had sort of thought he was incapable of crying. It . . . humanized him.

"Leave, Caroline," he said, his voice still husky and thick from emotion. "I understand perfectly well. I'm a bad son, I'm a bad brother, and I'm a bad father. I don't need you to remind me." When she stood as still as a statue, he spun around on his heel and fixed her with a fearsome glare. "LEAVE!" he shouted, and she took an unconscious step back.

Caroline swallowed hard. This was it. This was the point of no return. She could leave, and not look back. That would be easier. Simpler. It wasn't in her nature, but she was capable of doing things that she abhorred. She killed her mom's deputies, after all, and the carnie, even though it felt so long ago. And she didn't feel as terrible about it anymore.

Klaus deserved it. Deserved to be left behind. He had committed countless atrocities over a millennium, and plenty within the last few months. He had Caroline and Tyler kidnapped to be used for his stupid sacrifice, and when Damon rescued them, Klaus had Jenna murdered. He sacrificed Elena, and because of that, John died. He strong-armed Stefan into creating his ridiculous hybrid army, acting under the assumption that the poor guy's girlfriend was dead, and transformed him into a ripper. Then, when he found out Elena was alive, he turned Tyler into a hybrid and compelled Stefan's humanity off. And during the latter half of his crimes, he toted around an eight-year-old orphaned werewolf, treating her more like entertainment and property than a child.

Until he learned to love her. She hated it - God, she hated it - but she liked him when he was around Gracie. Liked him a lot. He was different when he was with her. He was warmer, softer, happier. When he was with her, Caroline envisioned him as the man he had the potential to be.

A man that, come hell or high water, she could . . . care about. A man, if she was honest with herself, she already did care about. Just a little.

So, in that moment, she forgot about Tyler. She forgot about Elena, the Salvatores, Bonnie, her mom. She forgot about them all, and for once in her screwed up life, she put herself first. Honestly, she didn't even know what this was, and she didn't think she wanted to know. But she couldn't leave him like this. She just . . . couldn't.

And thus, Caroline Forbes made a Bad Decision that would alter the course of her entire existence. She made the unwise and impulsive choice to cross a barrier that couldn't be uncrossed. She decided to play with fire, because she realized that she wasn't afraid to be burned.

She stayed.

"No," she said, mustering every ounce of her courage and stepping closer to him. "I'm not leaving, so suck it, you ass."

He looked genuinely surprised that she didn't abandon him to his despair - _or_ that she told the Original Hybrid to suck it and called him an ass again. Then, he narrowed his eyes, and Caroline was fairly certain she was intended to feel threatened. "I'm warning you, love," he said with an undercurrent of a growl. "I'm not in the mood for our banter."

She offered a helpless little shrug. "Neither am I." Wringing her hands together and succumbing to the desire to avoid the inevitable heart-to-heart - or heart-to-whatever-the-hell-Klaus-had-in-the-place-where-his-heart-was-meant-to-be - she nervously appraised the smattering of paintings all over the wall. They were . . . lovely, actually. Did he buy them all? How rich was he, anyhow? Caroline figured he could probably buy a small castle if it tickled his fancy. Or maybe he compelled them into his possession. That was far more likely, in her opinion. "These are impressive," she mused, admiring the erratic but rich brushstrokes on a red-toned piece. "I take it the curators at the Louvre aren't on vervain." She had never been, but it was on her bucket list.

Klaus tweaked an eyebrow at her abject subject change, but thankfully went along with it. "Yeah, well that's their mistake," he replied with a breathy chuckle. It rang half-hearted, and Caroline experienced a _ridiculous_ compulsion to cheer him up.

"What about these?" she asked lightly, gesturing to the glittering, extravagant bracelet dangling from her wrist. "Where'd you steal this from?" She'd be willing to wager that the tale of the bracelet was more interesting than most of anything that occurred in Mystic Falls, and if she prodded him into telling it, then he'd be distracted from his mother's betrayal - even for only a minute.

"That's a long story," he responded with slightly more enthusiasm. His lips lifted into his characteristic smirk, and she almost smiled at the familiarity of it, even if it was a ghost of its typical charm. "But rest assured it was worn by a princess almost as beautiful as you."

 _Oh God._ Caroline didn't know if that was suave or cheesy, but she _kinda_ liked it. It directed a tingle of warmth into her cheeks, and she was sure her face flamed pink. What the hell was this? She was - she was with Tyler. And she was happy with Tyler, even if their relationship was put temporarily on hold.

So why was she here, and why was she enjoying this?

Caroline rolled her eyes to disguise her embarrassment, and in the process caught a glimpse of a small pile of sketches. There was one of a magnificent building, and another simple drawing of a beautiful girl gazing to the side, her hair flowing past her. On top of them all, there was one of . . . _Gracie._ She looked to be the picture of innocence, with a wide beaming smile and a braid flung over her left shoulder. A cute little summer dress drifted down to her knees, and her feet were tiny and bare. Her eyes sparkled with an impish gleam, and there was a hint of a smirk inside of the smile, and Caroline was struck at how accurate the sketch was.

Her mouth parted in realization. She had jumped to the assumption that he bought, stole, or compelled himself the artworks - but he _did_ them.

"Wait a second," she said, pleasantly taken aback. "Did - did you do these?"

Klaus ducked his head, and gave her his equivalent of an 'aw, shucks' expression. Was he being . . . _modest_? It looked so foreign on him, on his supremely confident presence, that she nearly didn't recognize him. It wasn't a _bad_ change, per se, but it was . . . different. "Yeah, um . . . actually, one of my landscapes is hanging at the Hermitage, not that anyone would notice. Have you been?"

Caroline couldn't help but be impressed. The Hermitage? That was a little amazing. More than a little. Somehow, she found him even more attractive because of it - not that she found him attractive in the first place. Not at all. That would be silly. Preposterous, one might claim.

Oh, screw it. She thought he was hot. There, she admitted it. She wasn't _blind_.

"I've never really been anywhere," she answered after a moment, trying to imagine anything else but draping herself across the desk at the the end of the room, coyly shucking off her dress and posing, watching him sketch her, line by line, shadow by shadow. His eyes would darken as his pencil flew across the paper, and she would trail her fingers up one of her bare legs, innocently presenting him with an invitation to drop the pencil, release the sketchbook, and take her then and there -

Uh, where the hell did that come from? Intrusive thoughts, much? So, she didn't do a great job at _not_ imagining that. She blushed again. Old vampires had some telepathic powers. What if he read her thoughts? Oh _God_ , she'd rip off her ring and jump into the sunlight before _that_ happened.

Klaus looked at her in a way that had her convinced he was aware of exactly what she was visualizing. _Visualized._ She wasn't visualizing it anymore. Nope. Not one bit. Not in the slightest. It was completely vanished from her mind, never to return. Yup. She wasn't lying to herself at all.

"I'll take you," he vowed, breaking her free of her reverie - damn it, it was back again. She totally hated herself. _Pull yourself together, Care!_ "Wherever you want. Rome. Paris. Tokyo?"

She burst out laughing, and he soon joined her. "Oh wow!" He looked softer when he smiled, and laughed, just like how he was with Gracie - _Gracie_! That was a great way to tear her tainted mind away from her tainted thoughts. "You'll have to convince Gracie to eat Japanese food."

He brightened up at the mention of her, and her heart may have melted the tiniest amount. "Gracie doesn't like new foods. She likes pizza, hamburgers, and grilled cheese, and refuses to eat much else."

Caroline giggled again at the mental image of the little girl tasting new and exotic foods, and making the same hilarious face of disgust she did when she had popped the caviar spread into her mouth. "She's eight. Eight-year-olds aren't really connoisseurs of fine cuisine."

Klaus laughed again, shaking his head fondly. "Certainly not _that_ eight-year-old."

As much as Caroline would have preferred to exchange airy chatter with him about her favorite child in the whole wide world, there was still the matter shimmering underneath the surface that required discussion. "So, she won't try new food, but she'll make a Molotov cocktail," she concluded, cautiously observing his shift in countenance as he sobered. "She could've killed people, Klaus. I know you don't care, but _I_ could have died. And frankly . . . she was aiming for your mother. She's a little girl, and she tried to _murder_ someone. That isn't normal." She mulled it over. "Even for you guys."

Klaus pursed his mouth in contemplation, and she was grateful that he at least considered her viewpoint. "I know it isn't normal," he murmured, lost in thought. "I know she isn't normal, even beyond her werewolf nature." He swallowed, looking pained, and it occurred to Caroline how difficult this had to be for him to even acknowledge. "I know that she is somewhat . . . disturbed. I've mostly ignored it, but it has become apparent tonight that I can no longer afford to do so. Lest she burn us all."

"Not disturbed," Caroline defended weakly, even if the descriptor wasn't too far off. "Troubled. She's been through a lot."

Whatever she said must've served as some sort of trigger for him, because his expression hardened and he practically glared at her. She blinked. What did she say to make him look at her like _that_? "She _has_ been through a lot, Caroline," Klaus replied, and his tone was harsher than it had been all evening with her. Caroline couldn't help her surprise. What crawled up his ass and died within the last minute? "Just as you told us. Only, you didn't quite tell us the truth, did you? You lied."

 _Oh shit._ Caroline wracked her brain to recollect the exact wording of what she recapped for the three Mikaelson siblings. What could he have disproved, only a week later? If it was the _whole_ story, he would've been a lot angrier, and she doubted he would've invited her to the ball in the first place. He probably would have killed her. So what could it be? "I-I don't -"

"Gracie didn't kill her uncle by accident, did she?" he accused, and her world came to a screeching halt. This was not good. This was not good at all. How did he find out? _What_ did he find out?

She scrambled for a defense. "Klaus, I -"

"What else were you lying about, Caroline?" he interrupted furiously, and the first prickle of anger shot up and down her spine. He didn't get to speak to her like this, no matter the situation. Especially if he supposedly _fancied_ her.

" _Nothing,_ you don't understand -"

"Don't tell me I don't understand!" he shouted, and she was baffled at how sharply their conversation managed to nosedive. They had established some kind of camaraderie about his paintings and sketches, but it dissolved in the face of the betrayal he was so quick to perceive. "Her mother must have done something unspeakably awful to her, and I _certainly_ understand that!"

Caroline balled up her hands into fists, her nails piercing her vulnerable plans. "Stop yelling at me! You have _no_ idea what you're talking about!"

"How _dare_ you -"

It was her turn to cut him off. "How dare _me_? How dare _you_! I was trying to protect her! That's _all_ I want here."

"Well, you've done a pathetic job of it," he sneered, and a raging heat unraveled in her belly, rushing and trickling throughout her body, singing her muscles and bones and tendons, dripping into her trembling hands, tricking her into lashing out. She slapped him, and his head whipped to the side.

"Go fuck yourself!" she shrieked, moisture springing to her eyes, ignoring the flash of fury that blazed across his bitter features. Her throbbing hurt propelled her into unloading all of her frustrations and fears and truths unto him. "I love her! I love that girl! How _dare_ you accuse - how _dare_ you act like -"

He kissed her. One second she was screaming at him, and the next second his lips were crashed against hers, driving her breath away. Caught off guard, she gasped and unwittingly gave him entry, his tongue forcing its way through and sweeping along the inside of her mouth. She moaned on instinct and he deepened the kiss.

Her brain switched back on, and it slammed against the edges of her skull that she was _making out with Klaus Mikaelson_. Gasping in a hitched breath, she shoved him off of her and slapped him again, harder this time. "Quit trying to distract me," she snapped, completely and utterly flustered by the ambush of a kiss.

Klaus brushed his fingertips against his slightly reddened cheek. "Hit me again, love," he said dangerously, "and see what happens."

Oh, _hell_ no. There was _no way_ she was taking this without a fight. "Yeah?" she countered, sounding braver than she felt. "Kiss me again without my permission, and _you_ see what happens."

He was on the defensive now, and what he slammed her with was a series of barbs that fashioned themselves into a searing knife, inserted into her gut. "Am I truly that repulsive, Caroline? You've opened your legs for half of the boys in your little friend group, including Damon Salvatore, but _I_ disgust you."

She reached out to slap him again, but he caught her hand before it could connect with his cheek. Angry tears blurred her vision, and she struggled to free her wrist. "Yet again, Klaus, you don't know what the hell you're talking about," she hissed, as hurt now as he had clearly been by her rejection. "Damon was _horrible_ to me. He was a misogynistic abusive asshole, and I regret ever jumping into bed with him in the first place." She bared her teeth at him, frustrated. "But keep slut-shaming me, that's a great way to win me over."

He dropped her wrist like it was burning hot. Stepping away from him, she wound her arms around her middle and hugged herself, valiantly keeping her tears at bay. Screw him. _Screw him._ He didn't get to say that to her and walk out unscathed. She should leave. She should.

So why wasn't she leaving?

"I apologize, Caroline," Klaus murmured, looking the part of a chastened little boy. "After my mother's betrayal . . . I wasn't thinking properly, and I did not mean to hurt you. Forgive me."

Why did he have to sound sincere? She doubted he'd ever apologized and meant it in his entire life, so why did he have to pick right _now_? It was infuriating. It was . . . convincing. It was convincingly infuriating. And infuriatingly convincing.

She worked to keep her tone hard and unyielding. "I'm going to give you a pass on that one because your mom tried to murder you and your siblings. Treasure it, because if you say something like that to me ever again, this thing we have?" She flourished her hands between the two of them, glaring at him coldly. "It's done."

He nodded. "I understand."

"Good," she bit, still hurt.

His gaze swept the room, examining his paintings with a distant concentration, and he seemed to want to ask her something. She wasn't an idiot. She was attuned to what he needed to hear. "Just ask," she sighed, not having completely forgiven him yet. "I can't promise I'll answer."

He regarded her very seriously. "Damon hurt you?"

Yes, Damon hurt her. The first time, she'd given her consent to have sex with him. That was her mistake. And then he started feeding from her and abusing her and compelling her, and she wasn't even capable of giving her consent anymore. That was on him. He raped her, and he didn't even care. Nobody cared. Elena was basically in love with him, and she _saw_ the bite marks.

Elena thought he was improving. Caroline would've liked to remind her of Andie. He did the same thing to her, without remorse. The only reason he wasn't doing it to another innocent girl was because he was drooling over Elena, and Andie was dead now. "It doesn't matter." But it did. Maybe it didn't matter to her friends, but it mattered to her.

Klaus didn't even hesitate. "It does matter. He hurt you. I'll kill him."

That didn't make her feel any better. She wasn't certain when in his life he had concluded that killing people would solve all of his problems, but he stuck to it like glue. Were there times where she wished Damon would die? Uh, yeah. A lot of times. She still did, sometimes. She didn't really see much point in his existence; all he did was make everybody's life harder, especially Stefan's. But he also made Stefan happy on occasion, and for reasons she refused to understand, the same was true for Elena. So, she pushed her selfish desires aside.

"No, you won't," she said firmly, and Klaus looked at her with incredulity. "You don't care about people like I do, Klaus, so I guess you don't understand, but I love Elena and I love Stefan and they love Damon. That's all there is to it."

His disbelief molded into something resembling admiration, and she felt a spark of pride for herself. She was strong, and while she didn't need his assurances reminding her of just that, she appreciated the sentiment. "You are unflinchingly selfless, Caroline."

She gave him a bitter half-smile. "Not always." Stepping forward, she fingered the picture of Gracie, each line and tint and shadow layered with love that she didn't associate with him but spawned from him all the same. How was it possible that he loved Grace as much as he did? He had only known for her such a short time, and he was so narcissistic and cruel that she hadn't thought him able of affection, even toward his family who he had shared companionship with for a millennium.

But time and time again, every time she witnessed his interactions with Grace, he proved her wrong. He did love her, and he seemed to love her unconditionally. She just couldn't wrap her head around it. When he was around her, there was an air of playfulness masking his usual malice, and he struck her as calmer - more content, almost. He was happier with her, and with a painful start, Caroline realized that he might have been one of the only people in the world willing to truly accept little Gracie - for her werewolf nature, flaws, and trauma.

For the first time, Caroline considered what would have happened if Klaus and Stefan never located Ray Sutton. He would have died anyway, because of a witch - when retelling the bare bones of the story to a sympathetic Bonnie, Bonnie claimed the witch had been practicing Expression magic, which was dark and evil. It had to be, if it orphaned a little girl.

If Klaus had never met Grace, then she would have been alone. Alone, distraught, and angry. If she survived, she would have lived in the streets or in the foster system or out in the wilderness, and she would have grown up desperate and hateful. There would have been no possibility for a happy, healthy life for the stubborn blonde. She would have been abused and abandoned and she might have turned to crime, and ended up in prison, or dead in a ditch somewhere. She would have died young, Caroline just knew _._

She would have died young, angry, desperate, and alone.

But Klaus found her, and despite his countless faults, he took her under his wing. He provided her with food and shelter, when he didn't have to. As awful as his lifestyle was for a child, she would probably have been worse off on her own. He was her safe haven, and her fiercest protector.

And somehow, he was becoming her father. Her daddy.

And so, Caroline couldn't hate him. She couldn't hate a broken man who loved a broken little girl beyond comprehension, with the weight of the oceans and the height of the stars. It drew her in, lured her. Around the two of them, she was in serious danger of splitting from Elena's orbit and entering theirs. The scarred, charming devils that dirtied the gravity of angels.

Well, maybe angels were overrated, and they were never as good as they appeared.

"You look a little lost, love," Klaus said with a touch of mocking, making her flinch as reality came rushing back in with a tidal wave of sound and heat. "Shall we continue where we left off?" He was taunting her, and she hated it.

But she loved it too.

Caroline said nothing. She wanted to screech at him, berate him for even _thinking_ that he deserved to be anywhere near her after that shitty little comment of his. She was a strong, confident woman and that dickhead didn't get to paw at her after he all but called her a slut.

And he had stolen that kiss from her. She was so _sick_ of being taken advantage of. If she wanted to kiss someone, then that was her choice. It was time for her to take charge, and figure out what she wanted to do next.

And dammit, she wanted to kiss him. Was it smart? No. But it felt good, and right now, she needed to feel good, even if she would regret it later.

As if her feet were moving of their own accord, she glided forward and kissed him hard, shoving her tongue into his mouth just as he had done to her, mercilessly battling for dominance.

She felt him smile against her lips. His fingers latched into her hair, tugging at its roots, and she scraped her nails against his scalp, causing him to groan into her mouth. His hands wandered down her sides, and then cupped her ass, squeezing and making her jump a little. As a new kind of heat swelled in her center, she grinded against him, feeling his erection poke against her thigh. As retribution for his rudeness, she palmed his groin, and he emitted the most delicious growl. She smirked at the look on his face.

In a flash, he had her legs wrapped around his waist and he slammed her against a wall, peppering kisses down her jawline and nipping at her neck. "That wasn't very nice of you, Caroline," he breathed against her collar bone.

"I'm not in the mood to be nice," she hissed, gripping at the back of his head and scratching at his hair.

This time, he smirked. "I've noticed. It becomes you." She whimpered as he resumed his spiced kisses, more slowly this time, savoring the act. His tongue trailed between the junction of her breasts, and he teased her, lifting up the burnt skirt of her dress and rubbing circles on her inner thigh, _so close_ to where she wanted _-_ no, _needed_ him to be.

That would not do. "Klaus, you shit," she whined, and he chuckled, continuing his little game.

To give him a taste of his own medicine, she deftly unbuckled his pants and snaked her hand inside, brushing against his member before promptly removing herself. He snarled and gripped her tighter, pinching one of her hardened nipples through her dress in reprisal. If she were human, she would be black and blue.

But then again, so would he. She wasn't exactly being _gentle_.

"You're awfully impatient, sweetheart," he mused, once again stroking her thigh and leaving trails of fire in his wake. "It's almost as if you . . . _want_ something."

"Klaus," she gasped as he thumbed the hemline of her underwear. He smirked again against her shoulder. Impatient, she fumbled for his hand and wrenched it into place, moaning as he responded accordingly. " _Klaus_ . . ."

Oh.

Her eyelids fluttered shut.

Wow.

She tossed her head back against the wall.

Damn.

It was worth the wait.

He had a friggin' _musician's_ fingers.

Grasping his lapels, she yanked him in for another bruising kiss, feeling her fangs poke out of her gums and pierce his soft lower lip. He laughed softly, continuing the work of God. "Do you like this, love?" he hummed between the waltzes of their dancing lips. "I think you do. The sounds you're making, and how warm and wet you are. . . ."

He paused, teasing her again, and she clawed at the base of his throat. In retaliation, he sucked hard on her neck, and she knew that he'd leave a mark.

Caroline Forbes was nothing if not competitive.

She craned forward and sunk her teeth into his neck, and the most delectable blood that had ever blessed her tongue sent her into ecstasy. It was cool, sweet almost. Powerful. The nectar of the gods pooled into her mouth, and she stifled a wail of pleasure and pain alike as he followed her lead and bit right into her jugular. He wasn't gentle about it either, and the hot flash of venom entering her system was only abated by her direct access to the cure.

Deciding abruptly that he was wearing too many clothes, she ripped his tuxedo jacket off his lithe figure, the remaining shreds falling to their feet. He chuckled again. "Do you know how expensive that was?"

"Shut up," she griped, thrusting against his hand as his fingers progressed their magic. "Klaus," she panted, feeling herself near the familiar precipice of bliss. "K-Klaus, I'm so _close_."

And then -

" _Don't hurt me!_ "

Grace.

Fuck.

Klaus dropped her without a moment's trepidation, and he was gone before her feet connected with the ground. "Gracie!"

Caroline's lust bled into terror, and she blurred after him, almost slamming into the little girl's doorway. Her eyes scanned the room at a rapid fire pace, searching for an invader, but there was none. Klaus hovered over a sweating, writhing Gracie, who was mumbling incoherently in her - sleep. She was having a nightmare.

Caroline could definitely say that she had never been cock-blocked by a sleeping child before. And to think, she had been _so close_. . .

Somehow, Klaus had managed to buckle his pants back up and clean off his hand, and besides his missing suit jacket, he didn't look worse for wear. How was that even possible? She probably looked like a train wreck. Or maybe, if she was lucky, like a sexy Aphrodite.

Or hopefully somewhere in-between.

At least, as he stroked the little girl's hair and murmured sweet nothings into her ear, she could properly rehash the last five minutes and ask herself what the _fuck_ she was doing.

She attended a stupid ball hosted by the stupid Mikaelson family, she sort of had an all right time, she witnessed an attempted genocide, had a nice conversation with Klaus, had a screaming match with Klaus, made out with Klaus, and _accidentally_ wenttosecondbasewithKlaus.

And.

It.

Was.

So.

Fucking.

Good.

Like, Tyler was good in bed. Great, even. She wasn't going to pretend he wasn't. He was a solid eight on a one-to-ten scale. But Klaus was operating at a twenty, and she was still tingling from it, and there was a buzzing in her ears that distracted her from committing to any kind of good judgement, like leaving now because _oh my God she went to second base with Klaus freaking Mikaelson._

What would Elena say?

She didn't care what those judgy little doe eyes would say.

That was hot.

Another distressed wall ripping from Gracie's lungs distracted Caroline from getting turned on all over again - which, really, all things considered, was for the best - and she hesitantly lowered herself onto the little girl's mattress. She quietly observed Klaus as he seemed to enter her dream with an expertise that hinted at how many times he had to do this before.

A bout of helplessness swarming over her, Caroline reached for one of Grace's twitching hands and squeezed it, offering silent comfort. "I'm here, sweetheart," Klaus whispered into the child's ear. "I'm here, they can't hurt you. I won't let them."

If only he knew how much they already had.

Finally, his persistence won him a small victory, and Grace gasped awake, all but launching herself at Klaus once she saw him. "I've got you, Gracie," he assured, rubbing her back as she trembled against him. "You're safe now."

Caroline accepted that Elena had every right to loathe Klaus. They all did. He did horrible things to them. But if they could only witness him like _this_ , with her - they might get it. They might understand the conflict raging within her, the conflict that never let up.

But now? It was tilted in his favor. She was certain the next day he would say or do something to piss her off, and they'd be back to square one again, but right now . . . Right now she could forget the past, and embrace the present.

Just for tonight.

Caroline slipped her hand away, and stood up. She was beginning to feel overwhelmed by her pendulum of emotions. One minute she hated him, and the next . . . She sighed, meeting his knowing gaze. "I should go," she said, even though she couldn't will herself to move.

And then it happened. The final straw that broke the neurotic cheerleader's back. Grace, with a wobbling chin and a beseeching stare, shook her head vehemently. "Don't leave me, Caroline," she begged, snatching Caroline's hand back. "Stay." She hugged Klaus tighter, and pulled Caroline closer. "Both of you."

And that was how, two and a half minutes later, Caroline was under the sheets next to Gracie, facing Klaus, who was sprawled out on her other side. Gracie's round, enormous blue eyes flickered between the two of them, as if she were reminding herself that they were there.

Caroline admittedly, at _certain_ moments, had imagined herself in a bed with Klaus tonight, but this wasn't quite how she'd pictured it. Still, as she smoothed hair out of Grace's forehead, she couldn't help but feel somewhat content. "You're gonna stay?" Gracie asked with a small voice, sounding years younger than she was.

"Of course, sweetheart," Klaus replied, planting a tender kiss down onto the child's forehead. It was a _drastically_ different kiss than he'd shared with Caroline. She cleared her throat and looked anywhere but Klaus, pretending that the two of them weren't the most adorable sight in a twenty-mile vicinity.

"Caroline?" Grace prompted, stubborn as ever.

Caroline suppressed a sigh. "I'm not going anywhere, Gracie." _Even though I should, if I had any sense of self-preservation_.

"Okay," the little girl said succinctly, and her eyelids squeezed shut as she snuggled between them. Within minutes, the steady rise and fall of her chest signaled her slumber.

Caroline awkwardly stretched out her limbs, avoiding Gracie's splayed legs, and settled in. Glancing back up, she met Klaus's smirk.

This was going to be a long night.

 **A/N: I hope I did Caroline's perspective justice. She's pretty conflicted right now, I'd say, but she was a lot of fun to write. Especially her smuttiness with Klaus. That Grace interrupted. Heh. #sorrynotsorry. She's growing closer to the Klaus-Grace pair, and further from the Mystic Falls Gang. What will happen next? Muhahahaha.**

 **And I will recap on some of the confrontation between the Mikaelsons and Esther in an upcoming Klaus perspective, since Grace didn't "perceive" a lot of it, considering she was so afraid. Poor kiddo.**

 **Next chapter, Grace will deal with the repercussions of her actions, and all of their lives will begin to change... I loooove reviews! Tell me what you think! :D**


	19. Aftershocks

**A/N: Okay, so I know I usually start these off with self-deprecating rants/apologies, but I'll shorten it this time. I'm so sorry I haven't updated in so long. It's been a hard year emotionally for me, with college hanging over my head and a lot of things changing, as well as a lot of family turmoil, but I'm still here. I promise. Thank you all so much for your patience. I hope you enjoy this! It could be considered a bit filler-ish, but it's very important for character development and relationships.**

 **I'm about to go across the country on a trip to visit my brother, and I'll be working on the next chapter on the flight (it's already partly written). I haven't given up on this. And thank you SO MUCH for your favorites, follows, and reviews. I've read all of them multiple times and treasure them. Typically, I usually respond to reviews before I post the next chapter, but since I'm very busy with going to the airport in the morning and I really, really want to get this chapter out before I go, I decided to just post it. I'll be responding to all reviews for the next chapter. Again, thank you so much for the continued support, I love you all.**

 **Warnings: Self-harm at the end that involves a child punching a window, mentions of child abuse.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own TVD or TO or anything associated with that. I only own Grace and the Sureshes, but hey, they're not bad either.**

 **Chapter 19: Aftershocks**

 **Grace's Perspective**

When I woke up in the morning, it was hot. Too hot. Hot like some asshat dropped me off in the desert for a staycation and then drove off, and all I had for shade was a damn cactus and a dead rattlesnake.

Shifting a little under my covers, I felt my dress ride up to my knees. Why was I still wearing that? Didn't I think to change into pajamas? Peeling open my eyes to the harsh morning light, I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sight of a peacefully slumbering Klaus and Caroline on each side of me.

The hell did I miss?

Oh, right. The bomb. Esther. Betrayal. Poof.

I had another nightmare after I cried myself to sleep. This one included a screwed up Frankenstein combination of my mama and Esther, and it was scary as shit. Klaus yanked me out, like usual, and Caroline was there too.

Caroline. I loved Caroline. Caroline loved me too. Klaus left me, and I wasn't so sure he liked me anymore, but I had Caroline. Sweet Caroline. Her nose was all scrunched up, and it was kind of cute, and - _holy honey bunches of oats she was holding Klaus's hand_.

Mouth hanging open, I examined their fingers laced together in awe. It looked so _natural_. Like they were married or in love or however that mushy gross stuff worked. I didn't care as long as they lived together and with me for the rest of eternity. As long as I achieved that end result, they could do whatever the hell they wanted in the meantime.

I heard muted voices downstairs and started in surprise. It sounded like the Mikaelson brothers, besides Klaus. I had doubted they'd return. Curiosity getting the better of me, I wiggled out from under my sheets and shimmied off the bed, miraculously without waking either of them. It'd been a stressful evening - even if vampires usually didn't need sleep, they could probably use it.

Rudy, who was splayed out on my carpet, cracked open an icy blue eye, huffed at me for daring to bother him, and then promptly went back to sleep. I related to him on a spiritual level.

As quiet as a mouse, I tiptoed down the hall and flinched at the charred staircase before me. _I_ did that. Klaus was going to have to remodel _again_. Luckily he was as rich as sin.

Pausing at the top of the landing, I crouched down to the floor and eavesdropped on the conversation occurring below. "Isn't it a little early to be drinking, Kol?" Elijah asked, moving some things around on what sounded like the kitchen counter. By the irregular clinking and banging it seemed like he was just looking to keep his hands busy.

"That's fou' bottles of bourbon too late, 'Lijah," Kol slurred, and I heard the telltale swishing of booze before he without a doubt took another swig. "I'm goin' t'set a new record. It'll b'hard, since I once dran' ten bottles of tequila in one sitting and died once or twice, but I ca' do it."

"Kol, perhaps -" Finn was there too. At least they hadn't burned him at the stake yet.

"Oh, shut it, big brother, it's m'party and I ca'drink if I want to." Another gulp, and then a hiccup. "Wan' any? Mother wanted t'kill you too. We ca'be drinking buddies." Presumably, both brothers declined, because Kol heaved a hefty sigh. "If on'y Nik were awake. He'd've said yes." He hiccupped again. "You're all boring. I'm goin' to call - _hic_ \- Aasha - Ashea - Aashi -"

"I don't believe that is your best idea," Elijah put delicately, and I snorted into my hand, which turned out to be an enormous mistake because I'd momentarily forgotten that those freaks had mighty fine hearing. "Grace?" His tone sharpened and dropped a few degrees. "Are you eavesdropping on our conversation?"

What was I supposed to say? If I answered at all, then I was confirming it, but if I didn't answer, then I was basically lying by omission. This was craptastic.

I ended up choosing to stay silent, since it was less nerve-wracking. That wasn't the best decision I ever made, but then again, when was the last time I made a good decision? Like, never. If I thought a little harder about it, then I might have bounced along to the conclusion that the fact that the art of decision-making escaped me on such a regular basis meant that I, for all intents and purposes, _should_ allow grown-ups to guide me more often, but that also cramped my style, so I skipped past that uncomfortable reflection.

Elijah appeared at the foot of the staircase, and I winced at his stony expression. Clearly I wasn't his favorite person at the moment. He did _not_ look like a grown-up who had any intentions to guide me in a way that benefited me. Guide me to the guillotine, maybe. "I'll just go back to my room," I muttered, twisting to flee, but a stern look and a single crook of his finger had me picking my way down the stairs with my tail between my legs. One glance at his rigid features and I found my bare feet incredibly fascinating.

The man had only woken up a couple weeks ago, but sometimes a bee wiggled around in his bonnet, and he acted like he was the only source of structure in my crazy life. He even acted more fatherly than Klaus, on occasion. I wondered how all that would work out if or when Klaus adopted me. Because I couldn't really imagine him relinquishing all of his authority to Klaus, but if he didn't, then Klaus'd throw a bitch fit.

I couldn't quite pinpoint how I felt about all that, but during times like these, he scared me even _more_ than Klaus.

He grasped my chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced me to meet his hard gaze, just like Klaus had done the night before. I hated when they did that, but it was even worse now. His eyes were like chips of black ice. "What did I tell you about eavesdropping, Grace?"

That was a fair question. What _did_ he say about it? I actually didn't remember him saying anything about it before, but that wouldn't be smart to tell him, right? Right? _Right?_ "Nothing," I said, and then I decided that I was mad at him, since last night didn't have to happen if he'd just freaking _listened to me in the first place_. What a traitor, siding with Elena like that. "You didn't say nothing about it." I used bad grammar on purpose because I knew it bugged him. He deserved nothing less.

His grip on my chin tightened until his fingers all but functioned as clamps, and his eyes darkened from black ice to pure obsidian. I didn't know if his final goal was to fracture my jaw, but if it was, he was on the right track. "Excuse me?" he said quietly, which was a very bad sign - I avoided Klaus when he got louder, but a quiet Elijah was _dangerous._

"Did I stutter?" rolled off my tongue before I was capable of stopping myself.

His response was rapid and brutal, effectively tearing me down about ten and a half pegs. "I will make you stutter in a minute." I didn't entirely understand what he meant by that, but it didn't sound good. How dare he threaten me?

Letting my indignation propel me into no man's land, I spat, "You didn't say nothing about not making no bombs either."

Wow, that was even _worse._ I didn't just not have a filter, I had an anti-filter. I was beginning to think I ought to have my vocal chords surgically removed. He released my chin, and if there was a material harder than stone, then his expression morphed into that. Diamond, maybe? Diamond was pretty close.

Suddenly, I was reverted back to all the times that I'd been on the receiving end of that expression. Like when I smashed the car Daddy was working on, and he whipped the hell out of me. Or when I killed my uncle, and Mama wailed on me and tried to kill me. Or when Klaus slapped me after I nearly staked him.

Basically, when an adult looked at me like that, I got hit. So, instinctively, I stumbled backwards, tripping onto the first stair and hiding my face. I trembled furiously. ". . . Grace."

I didn't respond, curling in on myself instead. "Grace," he repeated, and I felt his hand on my arm. Whimpering, I scooted away from him, clutching onto the mangled bannisters for dear life. His hand came back, shifting to my shoulder, and I tensed, preparing for the hit.

Except, the hit never arrived. Instead, his fingers curved around my neck, and I connected with something solid - his chest? At first, I was concerned that he was attempting to strangle me, but then I realized he was hugging me. Well that was a plot twist. "Are you gonna hit me?" I whispered.

"No," he murmured. "I'm not going to hit you, Grace."

At first, I stiffened at his unexpected physical comfort, but I soon melted into his embrace. He lifted me onto his lap, and then sat down on a clean stair. I rested my head against his chest, even though he still scared me some. "I don't believe you," I said, my voice muffled by his suit jacket. "You hate me now."

"I do not hate you." He started petting my hair, and whenever he ran into a knot, he'd comb his fingers through it to smooth it out. It was kind of nice. I gnawed on my lip so I didn't start mewling like a kitten.

"Yeah you do," I argued, and yet, I didn't move away. Last night was way more stressful than I'd anticipated. I guess I only wanted somebody to hug me and comfort me, even if he hated me while he did it. "You yelled at me now, and you yelled at me last night. You said before that if I said another word you'd make me regret it, and just now you said you'd _make me stutter in a minute._ That means you're gonna hit me."

Elijah sighed, long and deep, and I held onto his jacket in case he decided to shove me off. He removed one of his hands from my hair and blanketed mine with his much larger one, stroking his thumb against one of my clammy palms in soothing circular motions. "I apologize for managing to convince you that I would physically hurt you. That was not my intention. I was . . . very angry with you last night, but I understand that you threw the Molotov cocktail from a place of extreme fear and a sense of helplessness. I understand that you believe you were helping . . . Katerina has kindly illuminated some of this for me."

Katherine? Was she _defending_ me? She didn't even like me that much. Maybe she cared more than I thought? I sort of doubted it, but it was an interesting notion. "I was only trynna help," I agreed, unconsciously snuggling against him. Before, Elijah was my biggest threat, but now he was safety. He had to be. If I had no cradle of safety, then I'd spiral off the deep end.

He resumed caressing my tangled strands of hair - he'd stopped when he talked about how angry he'd been at me, which had sent anxious shivers down my spine. "I know, little one. And I know you told me your suspicions beforehand, and I didn't listen to you. I . . . should have listened to you. Thus, the blame for the catastrophic evening only naturally falls upon me."

It was about goddamn time he acknowledged that! But if _I_ pointed it out, then he'd bitch at me for _disrespect_. There was no winning with this guy unless he admitted his own mistakes. Which hardly ever happened. So, I snatched this opportunity and ran with it.

"I guess I can't argue," I said cutely, and he chuckled. Pulling away to look at him, I turned solemn and poked out my lower lip. "Are you mad at me, Uncle 'Lijah?"

Sue me, I tacked on the "Uncle 'Lijah" to soften him up, and by golly, it worked like a charm. He sighed again, but there was a hint of an indulgent smile on his lips too, and I was glad to see that I was wrapped around his little finger once more. "No, child, I'm not angry with you anymore." _Anymore_. I'd take what I could get. "I think what you did was highly irresponsible and incredibly reckless -" Oh here we go - "but I understand that you . . . are perhaps not in the best frame of mind."

While it was tempting to immediately take offense to how he'd essentially called me coo coo for cocoa puffs, I couldn't really blame the guy. What else was he meant to surmise - and _he_ taught me that word too! - about an eight-year-old putting together and then throwing a Molotov cocktail? And anyway, the fact that I'd cowered from him only a few minutes ago probably didn't do a lot to assure him that I _wasn't_ a complete wreck.

But there was one thing I still needed verified. "So you're not gonna hit me then?"

He sighed for the third time, and I wondered if he was planning on setting a record. Did I exhaust him _that_ much? "No, I will not."

"You sure?" I mumbled. Daddy would've. Mama would've. Even Klaus might've. I couldn't trust grown-ups, not really.

"Yes, little one." To his credit, I didn't hear even a touch of impatience in his tone. "I will not hurt you."

"Do you promise?" I wasn't certain why I was so insistent about it. He'd frightened me the night before, frightened me a lot. Klaus was a wild card all by himself, but I figured if there would be another Mikaelson to smack me around, it'd be Elijah. Rebekah would never touch me, Finn wouldn't dream of it, and even Kol didn't seem the type to beat on kids, although he hurtled me against a wall the first night I met him. But Elijah was Mr. Old-Fashioned. Maybe wouldn't slap me across the face willy nilly, but I wouldn't be shocked that if I pushed him too far he'd finally snap and lose his shit on me, and that was a fate I was eager to avoid.

"I give you my word." I relaxed a bit. Elijah's word was a big deal around these parts. If he gave his word that he wouldn't hit me, there was around a 95% chance that he was legit. I liked those odds better. "Now, Grace." _Uh oh_. "I am aware of the incidents with Klaus, but regarding your parents, I must inquire . . . Did they ever hit you?"

I gave him a withering look that implied my sincerely questioning his intelligence. "I'm southern. Ever since I was three or so, I spent a few days every month havin' to stand up."

The corners of his mouth tweaked up. "Ah."

The hint of humor that I detected from him did not please me in the slightest. "What?"

"Somehow that does not surprise me." I narrowed my eyes, waiting for him to explain himself, and he clarified, still distinctly amused, "You can be quite the handful, little one. It does not surprise me that your parents might have been forced to realize that punishments that likely worked on other, more soft-hearted children, such as time-outs or taking away toys, did not dissuade you from your usual . . . mischief."

There was a whole lot about his spiel that I didn't approve of. For one, I was beginning to feel a little embarrassed about the direction our conversation took. Secondly, he seemed to believe that I was an enormous friggin' terror in comparison to other kids. It was sort of true but it hurt my feelings anyway. Third, it sounded like he was going to use another word besides "mischief" and changed his mind right before he said it. And last and worst of all, he just _had_ to suggest that he understood why my mama and daddy used to spank me all the time, like it was my fault or something.

I mean, sure, the vast majority of the time it _was_ my fault, like I supposed I didn't _need_ to punch a classmate in the face, and I supposed I didn't _need_ to write Harry Potter quotes all over my bedroom walls with a Sharpie, and I supposed I didn't _need_ to blast the neighbor's boy with a hose after he called me a chicken. But I didn't _try_ to be bad. I just couldn't help it sometimes. And there were a few times where Mama or Daddy lit a fuse in my backside just because they were mad about something else, like work or taxes or some other grown-up bullshit, and they said sorry after.

But then _Elijah here_ had to go and indicate that I probably deserved it. How would he know? He never met my mama or my daddy. For all he knew, they could've been raging alcoholics who beat me whenever they damn well chose. Mama was a sweet lady before she tried to kill me and all, and Daddy was only a little bit of an alcoholic, but that didn't matter - Elijah just didn't get it.

I crossed my arms and pouted, and he smiled slightly, which coaxed a blush out of me. But he sobered up pretty fast, because Elijah could only find something funny for so long before he had to ruin it and make it serious. "When I asked whether you were hit before by your parents, I didn't quite mean that . . . particular brand of punishment." As much as he was annoying me right now, I appreciated the fact that he didn't use the word. That would've embarrassed me even more, and he must've sensed that. Maybe he was more in-tune with my emotions than I assumed he was. Maybe it was just Klaus who was on a different wavelength.

"Are you askin' if I was _abused_?" I asked outright, not bothering to sit back while he elegantly danced around his point.

He stayed quiet.

"Why do you think I was abused?" Then it struck me - poor choice of words, but it did. "Is it 'cause what Caroline said about my uncle and mama?"

I didn't want to talk about this. I didn't want to talk about this at all. Not today. Not ever. "Yes, and your reaction when you believed I would hurt you," he said, and my heart sank. "Caroline was rather vague about your uncle . . ." He trailed off, probably wishing I'd fill in the blanks, but I didn't, so he marched on. "She did mention, however, that after you killed your uncle, your mother attacked you. Did she hit you?"

I wondered why he was asking me when Caroline already outlined that section of the story. Maybe he hoped I'd confirm it. I decided not to lie about this. I could tell him a half-truth, after all, and not reveal the worst of it. "Yeah."

He paused for a beat. "Did she . . . hit you severely?"

She did. Even before she stabbed me, she had been wailing on me. I supposed spilling the beans on that part wouldn't hurt much. ". . . Yeah."

"How did she . . ." He swallowed, and I realized with a start that he almost looked a bit nervous, like he wasn't sure how to word his interrogation without traumatizing me further.

Klaus had been badgering me about my uncle and mama ever since I muttered some weird crap in my sleep after shopping for dresses. Maybe if I threw a few scraps their way, they'd leave me alone for a while. "She . . . spanked me a few times at first," I began reluctantly, and he nodded, giving me his rapt attention. I stared at his tie, allowing the blue to surround me and dull my senses. This was hard. "It was worse than normal, though. I know it ain't meant to be a fun time, but it was different, y'know?"

"She didn't intend to simply punish you, she intended to hurt you," he summarized from my disjointed recollections, and I nodded. Once again, I couldn't decipher what he was thinking. I released a shuddering breath, and he tilted me into him to kiss me on the forehead. "Take your time."

His little gesture of affection infused me with the strength I needed to continue. "Then she started punching me, all over." I could've sworn I saw a tint of color drain from his face. "She was hitting me really hard, and it made me bleed and stuff, and I couldn't really breathe too well. But I healed quick, so . . . so it's all right."

He was shaking his head before I could even finish, and his jaw was clenched all tight, his tendons stretching thin and jumping up and down as he ground his teeth. "No, little one, it is _not_ all right."

I shrugged, pretending not to care even though I actually cared a bunch. "I killed her little brother. She was mad."

"You were her child, and she beat you. I do not care what the circumstances were, she should not have done that. There is no excuse for abusing a child."

Genuine but contained anger had leaked into his tone. Why was he getting so worked up over this? It must've been about Mikael. Mikael abused Klaus when _he_ was a kid, and maybe Elijah still felt bad about it, because he couldn't stop it. "I guess so."

"Do not think what she did was acceptable, little one. It was not."

He switched his tactics, then, after I stewed in a sullen silence for a minute or two too long for his tastes. "Grace, why did you kill your uncle?" I peeked up at him with wide eyes. He'd never asked me so directly before. I could tell he wanted to know why ever since he found out at the dinner with the Salvatores that I killed him, but he left the bluntness to Klaus. "I can only assume he hurt you, too."

A lump swelled in the back of my throat. Not this. Sure, I slipped a snippet about my mama into the public domain, but this was where I drew the damn line. My uncle was off limits to anyone but Caroline. I wouldn't say _anything_ about him, or how he hurt me, or how he _wanted_ to hurt me. But I also had to be smart. If I kept denying that my uncle was an asshole, they'd get suspicious. In fact, they already were. I wouldn't just up and kill him for no reason. And when I'd flatly denied Caroline's story before - after halfway accepting it like a moron - they didn't believe me. If I denied it again, he'd hammer me until I told him the real story, and that wasn't going to happen.

All I could do was avoid, avoid, avoid. "You can assume whatcha want," I said. "It don't matter to me."

He wouldn't budge. I attempted to slide off his lap, but his hand lashed out and locked me in place. What the heck was this? I opened up to him because I felt comfortable enough, but now that he was forcing me to stay, my walls rose back up with startling speed. "Your deflection is enough to convince me that he _did_ hurt you. How did he hurt you? If you felt threatened enough to kill him. . . ."

 _Lie! Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie . . ._ "It was an accident."

"I don't think it was an accident. You killed him violently." I recoiled, stunned. How did he know that? I never told him, and he never saw my dreams, like Klaus did. Klaus witnessed the blood in my nightmare, but that was it. Did Klaus betray me? How could he do that to me?

"I dunno what you're talking about," I said, prepared to spit fire all over Klaus.

"You shot him."

What the hell was he talking about? Did Klaus misinterpret my dreams? Maybe he decided the blood was from a bullet wound. But he never asked me for sure, so why would he go and tell Elijah about it? It made sense, though, in a way. Klaus always jumped to conclusions. "No, I didn't!"

He remained calm even as I began to panic. "Didn't you?"

"No!" I cried. "I wouldn't do that!"

"Are you certain about that?"

"Yeah, I am!"

"Entirely certain?"

". . . Y-yes."

"There is no room for doubt?"

Now he was almost making me doubt my version of the event. He sounded so sure of himself. I didn't shoot him. Right? I stabbed him, I stabbed him, I didn't shoot him, I wouldn't do that, there wasn't even a gun, it was just a knife, I stabbed him with the knife, there was no gun, I didn't shoot him -

It took me a moment to realize that, in my jumbled haze of fear, I was saying all of that out loud.

 _Shit._

Elijah nodded slowly, as if he were a detective who stumbled upon a juicy new lead. "So you stabbed your uncle."

 _Oh._ He was manipulating me. Crimson, pulsing blotches spread across my field of vision. He didn't think I shot my uncle to begin with - or if he did, he wasn't nearly as sure about it as he came across. He used his confidence to swindle the truth out of me. In that moment, I despised him. "You tricked me."

He thought he was so much better than me, didn't he? All because he was a thousand years older, he thought he was so much smarter. But he was, wasn't he? Elijah never would've fallen for that ruse. But I did. I was such an idiot. He made me feel insanely stupid. "I'm sorry, little one, but Klaus has made no headway, and -"

"You tricked me. I trusted you and you tricked me." Was that what he'd banked on all along? That he'd loosen me up with talk about how my mama hurt me, and then when I was weak and useless, he'd rip me to shreds until I had no secrets left?

Again, I lurched backwards, but his hand circled my wrist like a manacle. "Grace, this would be easier if you would simply tell me what happened -"

"I don't wanna talk about it, and I definitely don't wanna talk about it with _you_." Resentful tears burned at the back of my eyes. He _tricked_ me, like I was nothing, like he didn't care about me at all.

"Elijah, that is enough." I looked up through the sheen of moisture to see Finn standing determinedly before the staircase. Kol loitered behind him, slumped against the wall, _reeking_ of booze. His chocolate eyes were bloodshot and his skin had absorbed an unhealthy pallor. And yet he looked more somber than usual - those fuckers. They'd been listening in the entire time, hadn't they? Of course they had. But Elijah wouldn't ream _them_ out for eavesdropping, only me, because I was an easy target. "Let her be, brother," Finn continued, his expression harder than I'd ever seen it. "If she doesn't want to talk about it, then she doesn't have to."

I used Elijah's distraction to slither out of his lap, and ran for Finn, who scooped me up and propped me on his hip. I wound my arms around his neck for safe keeping, and then glowered at Elijah, who had the bare decency to look regretful. "You're a real prize, 'Lijah," Kol sang from where he half-stood, half-sat against the wall. "The girl divulges that her mother beat the living shit out of her, and then you just _have_ to keep pressing the wound, don'tcha?"

 _Her mother beat the living shit out of her_. To hear the traumatic encounter with the woman I had loved most in the world reduced to such a simple, crude statement left me reeling.

You know, I'd always felt sorry for those kids who got the shit beaten out of them by their parents, 'cause nobody deserves that. I'd felt sorry for them, but I never associated myself with them. I wasn't part of their terrible club. My parents didn't hurt me like theirs did to them. Sure, they beat my ass sometimes, but we lived in the South, so it didn't count. And yeah, that one time I broke Daddy's car, he whipped me from my shoulders down to my calves until I started bleeding. But that was only once, so that didn't count either. And my own Mama punched me over and over and then stabbed me, but I'd just killed her brother and I healed within a few minutes, so I didn't really count _that_. I still wasn't like _those_ kids.

But when Kol said it like that, I wondered if I _was_ like one of those kids. I wondered if I'd been making excuses for Mama and Daddy for years. I mostly deserved to be spanked when it did happen, but they probably didn't need to hit so hard. Sometimes I still bore the marks the next day, and that didn't feel so hot. And I was totally a little shithead for vandalizing Daddy's car, but when he was whipping me like that, I swore for a few moments that he was planning on beatin' me to death, and that wasn't so great for a seven-year-old to have to think. Also, he _knew_ I was a werewolf, so he _knew_ that I had anger issues, but he never bothered to explain them to me. And I _had_ killed Mama's little brother, so I understood why she was so mad at me, but she didn't even listen to _why_ I did it, and no mama should try to kill her own kids, 'cause that was plain wrong.

The room tilted a little to the side, and dizziness pushed my stomach to churn. Kol was right. Mama beat the living shit out of me. And if he knew what Daddy did with his belt that one horrible time, I bet he'd say that _he_ beat the living shit out of me too. And if they all knew that Mama stabbed me in the gut. . . .

I wasn't _like_ one of those kids. I _was_ one of those kids.

"Kol!" Elijah scolded, the goddamn lousy hypocrite.

"What, brother dear?" Kol provided a lazy grin, and I couldn't gauge what thoughts hopped through his strange head. "You made her say it, not I. And it's the truth, is it not? She knows. She was _there_ when her mother beat the living shit out of her, the words will hardly hurt her now when the truth already has."

I winced. I agreed with him, but hearing it like that still stung. "That's enough, Kol," Finn said coolly; he was taking his role as the eldest brother very seriously this morning. "You needn't make it worse."

"And what, disturb her? She's already disturbed." I frowned at him. _Disturbed?_ I wasn't disturbed, was I?

"Kol, I am warning you," Finn hissed, and for the first time since I met the dude, I could see the Original vampire in him. He faded into the background a lot, but that didn't mean it was smart to mess with him.

"Wha'?" He shrugged it off, draining the rest of his bottle and then tossing it to the side, paying it no mind as it shattered all over the floor. "O' course she's disturbed. She's eight years old an' tossed a bomb t'kill our homicidal mother, for Christ's sake." I stared hard at a spot of blood on Finn's collar so I wouldn't cry. I thought Kol had started to like me. Apparently not. "But we're all disturbed. Bekah's off who knows where, I've been drinking m'weight in liquor, I don't even need t'explain why _Nik's_ disturbed, you're both a Mama's boy an' a reject martyr, and 'Lijah's been bumping uglies with Katerina all night -"

Elijah slammed Kol into a wall in about two seconds flat. He pinned his little brother by the throat, the plaster cracking behind his head, and Kol scowled at him, otherwise unaffected. "That hurt m'feelings most of all," he announced with a smarmy little grin. "Why are you all up in arms with me, as if I'm the fuck-up? You're the one who did th'dirty with the doppelgänger."

Elijah's fingers tightened around his neck, and even though Kol had been a little mean to me, I worried over his safety. Finn attempted to shield my sight of the squabble, but I just shook my head. I had seen so much horrific crap that _this_ barely fazed me. "Kol, we are _all_ distressed about the events that occurred last night. Must you always make everything so much harder?"

Kol's scowl darkened, and I could be wrong, but I think Elijah _actually_ hurt his feelings with that jab. "Yes, I must. Always and forever," he sneered.

There was something about that "Always and forever" vow that bugged Kol. The more I learned about it, the more I suspected that Klaus, Elijah, and Rebekah all but excluded him from it. No wonder he isolated himself from them. They shut him out first.

I didn't catch what Elijah had to spit back, because Finn whispered in my ear that I didn't need to bear witness to their quarrel and carried me to a different sitting room. Placing me on one of the couch cushions, he sat next to me and settled me with a tired smile. "How are you feeling?"

I didn't respond, and he nodded his understanding. "I know," he murmured. "Believe me, child, I know. It has been a long night. We are all worn, I'm afraid. Rebekah has yet to return." Where was she? I missed her - she'd keep Klaus off my back. I hoped she'd be back soon. "We are all still recovering."

"Are you okay?" I asked, changing the subject, prodding at a crust of dried blood still staining his neck. "Klaus hurt you a lot."

He smiled ruefully, putting one of his much larger hands over mine, like Elijah had before he betrayed me. "I heal quickly. But thank you for your concern, Grace, you are too kind to me." I hated how he still thought that, that I was _too_ kind to him. Nobody could be _too_ kind, just not kind enough.

"I'm sorry," I said, sadly.

"You need not be sorry," he assured, and this time, I was pretty sure it was him who was being too kind to me. "This is my fault. I told you to keep my mother's treachery to yourself, and that was unfair of me to ask that of you. You were trying to help me."

"And I screwed it all up."

"Mother didn't get to link us," Finn pointed out. "You stopped her, albeit dramatically. You succeeded."

I didn't think about it like that. Esther would have linked the Originals with the blood-laced champagne, and then killed them. I stopped her. She escaped, sure, but they weren't linked. We won this time. Maybe she was intending to wage a war, but I won the first battle.

 _Hell_ yeah.

"But Elijah said I did the wrong thing." He called it reckless and irresponsible, never mind the fact that at least I got the job done.

Finn's lips flattened into a thin white line at his little brother's name. "Elijah is not right about everything, no matter how much he has convinced himself otherwise." God _damn_ , he burned him almost as much as I did the staircase with the dang bomb. "He was not right when he manipulated you into giving him information. You are a child, and he is well aware that you have suffered trauma, but he deceived it out of you still."

It was sort of fun to have a 'shit on Elijah' session, because nobody else would humor me about it. I cared about the man, and I considered him my new uncle, but he made me feel stupid and small sometimes. Like when he lectured me in front of Klaus and Rebekah and knelt down to my height and grabbed me so I couldn't run. I didn't like when he grabbed me, because I couldn't fight back. When he asked about my uncle and then practically imprisoned me on his lap so I'd have to answer, I felt almost as helpless as I did when my uncle attacked me.

"Grace, what are you thinking?"

That was nice. Nobody cared about what I thought. "I didn't want to tell him anything but he made me tell him. He tricked me." A terrifying concept occurred to me. "If he's willing to trick me to hear about that stuff, what else are he and Klaus gonna do? I don't wanna talk about it, Finn, I just don't. It only makes me feel worse."

Except when I told Caroline. Distantly, I had mused on occasion that it might be helpful in the long run if I did share my woes with Klaus, since he'd protect me and console me, but I also worried (did I used to worry so much?) that he would snap and kill everybody in my former life, including my mama. I hated her now, but I didn't want her to die.

Finn's resolve seemed to solidify. "I will not allow them to bully you into disclosing your past. You may do that on your own time, when or if you choose to."

I flung my arms around his waist and nuzzled into his side. "Thank you, Finn."

"You're welcome, sweet girl."

"Manipulating my fosterling again, are you?" I jumped, and turned around to see Klaus and Caroline standing in the doorway. Klaus, mildly bedraggled, stepped inside, and Caroline hurried after him, rubbing sleep out of her eyes and fidgeting with her clutter of blonde waves. "Did I not demonstrate to you last night what I thought about that? First I wake to the sound of Elijah manhandling Kol, and now this? Tut tut."

Outrage twisted my intestines into knots. How _dare_ he? Why did he have to treat Finn so badly? Finn never did anything to him. It pissed me the hell off. I was beginning to think that Finn was my only real ally around here - after Rebekah, of course. No matter what I said or did, they had my back. But not Klaus, and not Elijah. Kol was inconsistent, but he still ranked higher than Elijah right now, and Klaus was dropping levels right before my eyes.

 _Leave Finn alone!_

"Klaus, seriously?" Caroline groaned, but he ignored her. She shot me a wavering apologetic smile, and I wondered if she regretted staying the night now that Klaus was using the morning light to display his truest colors.

"No words to defend yourself, hmmm?" Finn exhaled sharply through his nostrils, but other than that, not a syllable exited him. He didn't like confrontation, I learned about him over the past couple weeks. Unfortunately for him, he was a member of the most confrontational family in the universe. "Pity."

"I have a few words," I declared, jumping to my feet and readying myself for some good ol' Mikaelson-style confrontation, because if Finn couldn't take it then I would. Klaus appraised me with arched eyebrows.

"Grace . . ." Finn sounded nervous on my behalf, but there was no backing out now. Well, there was, but Klaus was being mean again so I decided to go all the way. Carpe diem, right? I couldn't exactly seize the day if he butchered me, but not every plan was perfect.

"Quit being a prick to Finn." _There_ , I said it. Someone had to, right? _Right?_ Right. I think.

Caroline's hand flew to her mouth and her eyes goggled, reminding me of how she reacted when she discovered I'd thrown the Molotov cocktail. Damn, I shocked her to the core twice in less than twelve hours. Poor girl. Finn breathed a curse behind me, and Klaus . . . _yikes._

At first, he just froze, like he legitimately found himself incapable of believing that I had the balls to say that to his face. But then, when he presumably replayed my insult in his mind, he gave me one of his _deadliest_ looks. Like, earth-scorching. If Caroline wasn't standing beside him, I bet he would've exploded into a big splat of enraged hybrid. " _What_ did you just say to me?"

"She didn't mean it," Caroline said quickly, putting a tentative hand on his shoulder and nodding at me to confirm her statement. "Right, Gracie?"

I appreciated her efforts, but she needed to learn to leave me out in the cold once in a while, since I wasn't planning on meeting her halfway. I liked digging my own grave. It was a fun hobby. "Nah, he really needs to stop being an asshole. It ain't good for his complexion."

I'd give Klaus five seconds before he snapped. Let's see, shall we?

 _One._

Caroline turned as white as a sheet.

 _Two._

Finn stood up.

 _Three._

Klaus lunged.

Wow, he didn't even make it to five. Guess I overestimated him.

The universe blurred and spun in a jerky circle. Pale colors spiraled all around me - white and varying shade of beige and hey, was that Kol? - and bile crept up my throat. It reminded me a bit of a roller coaster - if the roller coaster was out to spin me to my gruesome death.

My body connected with a soft surface, and when my head stopped whirling, I noticed that Klaus had tossed me rather unceremoniously onto my bed. _I'm so done for_. The stick on my fight-or-flight meter toppled resoundingly over onto the "flight" side, and I hauled ass off the sheets only for Klaus to grab my elbow and yank me back, and I fell against the mattress, winded. He pulled me close and I swallowed a snippy remark about his wolf breath, 'cause he was in killing range. Thankfully, Rudy wasn't here to witness my downfall. "Listen well, little girl." For once, I listened. "I am adopting you. That makes me your father. You do _not_ disrespect me, such as in that absurd little exhibit in front of our audience."

Ah, so there was his beef. I mouthed off in front of his _girlfriend_ , and therefore made him look weak. And he didn't ask me if I wanted to be adopted, either, which stung. Because I still felt unsure about the topic. But he didn't care about _me,_ only his role in the messy situation. Shocker, Klaus only thought about himself. "Why're you adopting me, so you can just yell at me all the time - legally?"

His hands clamped down onto my knees, and he reminded me of Elijah right then. That wasn't a good thing, either. He didn't need to use his superior size and strength and speed to keep me in line. I wished he would just _talk_ to me and figure out what was wrong. I couldn't help myself. When he pushed, I pushed back. He was a lot stronger than me and his pushes did more damage, that's all. "Grace, I swear . . ."

"You swear what?" I sneered, mimicking Kol, and _I_ swore I saw smoke spurt from his reddened ears.

Before he could annihilate me to his heart's content, Caroline popped into the doorway, Finn lurking behind as usual. "Let's all calm down, okay?" she pleaded, nervous gaze flicking between the two of us.

"Not now, Caroline," Klaus snapped, and she crossed her arms, raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow.

"Um, I know you didn't just say that," she said, jutting her hip out in a classic bitchy cheerleader pose. "I'm not some commercial you can press the mute button for. I'm a person. A person _you_ invited over, let me remind you."

"I'm not attempting to lay siege to your self-worth, love, I'm endeavoring to discipline my child," he retorted, and that didn't really ring my chimes. I hated the word "discipline" because I heard Elijah say last week that I didn't have any. I was beginning to think that the dude had a bone to pick with me, actually. Like, he believed I had no discipline, that I behaved worse than all the other kids (and when did he _meet_ all of these other kids to compare?), that I had no manners whatsoever (he was pretty accurate there, not gonna lie), and that I was an all-around asshole, basically.

 _He_ was the asshole, though, since he manipulated me. So there.

"I ain't even your kid yet, you didn't adopt me," I snarked. Caroline pressed her head against the doorframe, grimacing and probably wishing me a merciful death. I was making her 'defend the innocent little girl from the big bad wolf' agenda much more stressful. She had to learn that I wasn't an innocent little girl. I was a wolf too.

Klaus twisted back around toward me, and his full lips curled back into a slight snarl. Alpha Klaus was ready for action and he wasn't playing around anymore. "Say _one_ more word, child, and see what happens."

Was I crazy for wanting to see what would happen? I loved the little thrill disobedience instilled in me, like a tiny jolt of electricity that sang with energy and encouraged my defiance, growing stronger the more I fed into it. _Defy_ , it commanded with each teasing zap. _Defy, defy, defy!_

"Grace," Finn and Caroline warned at the same time. "Please see a little reason," Caroline added and I seethed - even to _her_ I was the unreasonable one! How, in a war with Klaus, did he reveal himself to be the logical force? He killed people for funsies!

 _Don't do it. Don't do it, you idiot. It won't help your case AT ALL. It'll really only piss him off, and that won't end well for you_ , the angel side to my personality claimed, who frankly could use some remodeling, since she ran on painfully old software.

 _But then again, they aren't siding with you anyway, so what do you have to lose?_ the polished devil argued, much better preserved than her angel half.

 _That's a good point,_ I thought.

 _What the heck, no it's not,_ the angel cried in despair.

 _Yeah, sis, go for it,_ the devil prodded.

 _Defy, defy, defy!_

"I don't give a shit," I said. "There. That's five words."

The electricity buzzed through my bloodstream with a tingle of success and an ever powerful thirst for worse. It felt so . . . good. I was alive, dangling on a towering, crumbling cliff of approaching danger, and I _loved_ it.

They all stared at me for a solid ten seconds, and I disguised a smirk. Finn, shaking his head in what appeared to be disappointment, zipped off, and even Caroline sighed like I'd just let her down. She gave Klaus a 'whelp, I tried' look with a sad little shrug and also left for greener pastures, apparently unable to defend me after that.

 _Good._ I didn't need anybody to defend me.

When Klaus latched onto my arm and hoisted me to my feet, I didn't even bother to fight. Why fight when I already won? This was my victory, my victory over him. The consequences might not be pretty, but I won, I won, I won!

Okay, I allowed myself to feel a little surprised when he dragged me into a bathroom - aw man, he was totally gonna drown me - and slammed the door shut, but I didn't utter a peep. I could be a sore loser, but I was a forgiving winner.

He lifted me onto the counter and I worked to keep my features unimpressed even though his bizarre actions squicked me out just a bit. "Elijah told me that I needed to discipline you. Turns out he was right," he announced while rummaging through the cabinet below the sink, almost as frostily as he had spoken to me the night before, but I didn't really care.

 _Good,_ my inner devil declared again. _He's already mad at you because you lied to him. If you get him to hate you, then it won't hurt as much than if he hated you all on his own._

It made sense to me.

When he produced a brand new bar of soap, I gulped. Somehow, when I envisioned consequences for my behavior, this didn't make the cut. He dealt me nothing more than a slap on the wrist too many times over too many misdemeanors for me to predict a real punishment. _This_ wouldn't have entered my wildest dreams - or nightmares, more like. "Put this in your mouth," he ordered, and his tone booked no room for argument or nonsense, two of my favorite things.

Elijah constantly harked on me for my cussing, and even Klaus didn't quite approve, but I never really imagined that one of them would actually _do_ anything about it. Strangely enough, as hardcore as my parents could get, they never washed out my mouth with soap before. They swore too colorfully to ever slam me for it. So this was a delightful new experience.

"No, thanks," I declined politely. No way did I want that in my mouth.

His eyebrows skyrocketed to the goddamn moon and to galaxies far beyond, where no man had ever gone before. "After the events of last evening, and your little tantrum this morning," I wouldn't call it a _tantrum_ , but whatever, to each their own, "you still defy me?"

 _Defy, defy, defy!_

I shrugged. "I dunno."

"You _don't know_?"

That would've been a swell time to backtrack and reverse with 'Oh shoot, I actually do know, and I'm _not_ going to disobey you for the thousandth time' but alas . . . "I dunno."

He gripped my shoulder hard enough to snap my skeleton in half and pushed the soap against my pursed lips. "Open your mouth." I shook my head. "Grace Lucille, _open your mouth_." I shook my head a bit more aggressively, frowning at his use of my middle name. I never should've told him that! Rookie mistake. Anyway, he dropped the soap to his side just as his eyes flashed gold, and I accepted my small victory. "Little girl, I'm not giving you a choice."

"No, but I'm giving me a choice, and my choice is to not have any nasty-ass soap in my mouth -" For a split second, he looked like he might be tempted to laugh, but instead he used my inability to refrain from acting the smartass to pry my jaw open and literally shove the bar of soap inside - not far enough for me to choke, but far enough for me to be introduced to the awful flavor firsthand. I immediately whimpered at the disgusting taste that bombarded my taste buds, but he didn't let me spit it out.

"You will sit there for three minutes," he declared, and I glared at him through watery eyes - the revolting essence cajoled a rush of tears out of me. Or so I told myself. He didn't say anything about the obvious nonverbal disrespect - he must've chosen which battles to fight and deemed my bitter glower unworthy of his newfound discipline skills.

To distract myself, I listened in on a low murmur of conversations arising from downstairs - it sounded like Elijah and Caroline were exchanging a few unpleasant words, but as soon as I heard my name bubble up, I tuned them out. I didn't want to hear what Elijah thought of me now.

When three minutes - which felt like an eternity - passed, Klaus removed the bar from my mouth and I spluttered into the sink. However, when I moved to turn on the faucet and rinse the grossness away, he stopped me. "No rinsing it out, sweetheart. I think I would much prefer this little incident serve as a reminder for as long as possible."

I would've clapped back that the Eighth Amendment protected me from cruel and unusual punishment, but considering all he had to do was stick the soap back in, I held my abused tongue. Rather than humor him by even pretending that he was in the right, I marched back to my bedroom. Unfortunately, he followed me in, hot on my heels. "Did I say you could walk away from me?"

"Leave me alone," I griped, climbing onto my bed and turning my back on him.

"No." Well, that was that, then. "Why are you so sour this morning?"

I ground my teeth together, cringing at the soap that still clasped to my teeth. That was his fancy way of calling me a bitch. "What did you tell Elijah about my dreams?"

He sat next to me, but I still refused to look at him. "Grace . . ."

"Doesn't matter," I grumbled, reaching for my stuffed lion and Bekah the bear and my Wolverine doll and cradling them close to my chest. "You'll just lie anyway."

A fierce growl snipped my little rebellion into useless ribbons, and I pushed my face into my pillow. "What did I say about disrespect, Grace? Care to receive another lesson?"

"Why won't you just leave me _alone_?" I shouted, finally turning to glare at him again as the familiar burn of tears returned with full force. "I want to be alone!"

He set his jaw firmly, looking like he didn't want to be around me as much as I didn't want to be around him. "Fine. You're on time-out for indefinite notice. Do not exit your bedroom, unless to use the restroom. Other than that, you will stay put until I tell you otherwise."

Was he dead-set on humiliating me? First washing my mouth out with soap, and then putting me in _time-out_? This was all so new. Sure, he certainly yelled at me aplenty, and I was more than used to his heated rants, but he never _punished_ me before - even when he banned me to my room for an hour after lecturing me about setting my daddy's room on fire, he didn't do it so much to punish me as to find an excuse to earn a little alone time (he wasn't as sly as he presumed, I heard him telling Kol that a day later).

I didn't like this. Not at all. When he first met me, he treated me like a little comrade, and later as something of a friend. When did that go away?

Simmering with resentment, I launched my toys off the bed and onto the carpet to properly demonstrate my frustration, but he didn't even take the bait. "I want my real daddy back!" I yelled, and a part of me reveled in the hurt that flickered across his face before he molded it back to its emotionless state.

"He's dead," was all he said in return.

"Because of you!" I accused, sucking a series of harsh sobs through my clenched teeth.

"He would have died anyway."

God, why did that have to be true? "Well, I hate him and I hate you!"

He didn't even react - he stationed his walls back with a stunning efficiency. He just looked at me for a very long moment, and then walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. Furious at his lack of attention, I grabbed the nearest object - my lamp, it turns out - and hurtled it at the door, hissing in satisfaction as it broke against the wood.

When he didn't re-enter the room, I continued on a rampage, "And I hate your mama and I hate my mama and - and I don't want to talk about her, why did you make me talk about her?" Somewhere in the midst of my frenzied rage I realized that I had started addressing Elijah too, but I was too muddled in my hysteria to separate the two. "I hate her!" I bellowed, hopping off the bed and fumbling for the remains of my chair, bashing it against the wall and demolishing the rest of it. "I hate her, I hate her, _I hate her_!"

He didn't come back. "I hope she's dead!" I added, and there was a solid part of me that roared in agreement. And yet the thought of Klaus legitimately slaughtering her pained me beyond words.

I just didn't understand what I wanted.

* * *

 **Caroline's Perspective**

All of the present Mikaelsons did an excellent job of pretending that they couldn't hear Klaus stick a bar of soap into Grace's protesting mouth, but Caroline still cringed on her behalf.

Well, she cringed, but she also _seethed_. Because in the brief period where Klaus and Grace squabbled, Finn secretively informed her about Elijah's deception, and she honestly didn't care if he was a thousand years old and the embodiment of _debonair_ \- he hurt Gracie, and for that, she was tempted to shove her foot so far up his ass that he'd be picking baby blue toenails out of his esophagus.

Yeah, she didn't picture herself squaring up with an Original a week ago. And she was still grappling with the fact that this was the _second_ time she slept over at the Mikaelson Manor of Mayhem. Did she have a death wish? Or, like, any other kind of wish that probably wasn't beneficial to her overall well-being and involved Klaus in some form?

This morning, when she woke up next to Klaus, she may have flipped the fuck out a teensy bit. And the twatwaffle smirked at her, like he could read her thoughts! _"Something wrong, love?"_ he'd asked oh so innocently. Ugh!

At first, she couldn't recall the events of the night before, and for the briefest, most horrific of moments, she thought they'd . . . _you know_. And she nearly died on the spot. But then, thankfully, she remembered that they had slept next to Grace after her nightmare, and no sexy times were involved. And _then_ she remembered, before Grace's nightmare, she totally let Klaus finger-bang her.

Naturally, she nearly died again.

But it wasn't all bad, right? She backstabbed one of her best friends by going to first _and_ second base with her worst enemy, sure, but . . . no, there really wasn't an upside to that, was there?

Goddammit.

There was one bright spot, at least. It was _really_ good. But how would she ever explain that to Elena? Like, she was sure that if Elena experienced that - that artistry of fingers, then she'd be soaring over the moon too, but the whole Klaus aspect of it was a real hurdle. All she could think to do was strike back with a Damon comparison, since Elena seemed closer to him than ever these days and he hurt Caroline worse than anyone. Still, all of that happened the night before - why was she here _now_?

Because of Grace.

"May I speak to you?" she asked Elijah, coolly. He glanced up from where he sat on one of the armchairs in one of the several lounges. Finn had opted to stay behind, since he felt too disgusted to deal with him. Kol, from what she could hear, was still drinking - in the kitchen now.

He seemed surprised at the chill she didn't bother to veil, but nodded. "Of course, Miss Forbes. What is on your mind?"

It was quiet upstairs, apart from a few sniffles, and she grimaced at the visual of Grace sitting with a bar of soap in her mouth while Klaus hovered. "I have a lot on my mind, actually," she replied, lowering herself across from him on the sinfully comfy couch cushions. "However, the most _paramount_ is how you manipulated a traumatized child into admitting details of her past that she was not comfortable sharing in less coercive circumstances. Let's talk about that."

Okay, she may have rehearsed a tad in her head before she confronted him. She wasn't as well-spoken as him, all right?! And yesterday, Caroline couldn't even _imagine_ verbally decking Elijah to such a degree, because he was more than a little intimidating. The night before when he all but cut Grace down, even she felt nervous to be in his presence. He was different than Klaus, but no less dangerous. Klaus was predictably unpredictable, but she couldn't anticipate Elijah's next moves at _all_.

But now? He hurt Gracie, and somewhere along the way, she started to love that little girl. So she was going _in_ , hell or high water.

While Elijah appeared receptive to her at first, he reacted appropriately to her venom and shielded his initial generosity with a thin layer of ice. "I do not believe that concerns you, Miss Forbes."

 _God,_ how satisfying it would be to topple him from his lofty throne! "Well, believe it or not, _Mr_. _Mikaelson_ , I think it does," she snipped back. She was Miss Mystic friggin' Falls; she could be obnoxiously formal too. "I actually have known Grace longer than you, and I obviously care more about her feelings, so . . ."

He fiddled with one of his cufflinks, worryingly unaffected, and she had to remind herself that she was walking a very narrow line because his expression was giving nothing away. "That is a rather ungrounded accusation."

"Is it? It can't be that far from the truth." She considered stopping there, but then again, she _did_ love to talk and she _did_ have an unfortunate penchant for inserting her foot in her mouth. She imagined little Gracie's enormous damp betrayed blue eyes and dove for the jugular. "Because, from where I'm sitting, you don't care about her feelings at all."

 _That_ disrupted his smooth, unfazed exterior. Before, he had the barest hint of a smile, one that reeked of his trademark mild condensation, but it existed all the same. Now, he didn't bother even maintaining that. Now, he looked as cold as she felt. "I am not my brother, little girl. He may humor you to an extent, but I will not. You would do well to remember that."

 _Little girl._ She wondered how he saw her through his narrowed, ancient eyes. It was easy to forget that Klaus was a thousand years old, because he _fancied_ her and thus, to some degree, adjusted himself to her level of experience. But Elijah had no reason to treat her like an equal. As much as it rankled, she almost couldn't blame him. If she were his age, would she put up with cocky young upstarts? Hell, if she were even a _year_ older than Damon, she would've plucked his head right off a while back.

She would never admit this to any of her friends, and could barely admit it to herself, but that was part of the reason why Klaus attracted her. He was a king in the supernatural world, and while she might not stand a chance against enemies centuries older than her, all she had to do was whisper a word of complaint in his attentive ear, and he'd be her sword.

Not that she considered, like, _being_ with him, though. Totally not. That was ridiculous. She was a senior in high school, not his paramour! But the _perks_ . . .

 _Knock if off, Care_ , she chided, especially once she snapped back to reality and realized that she had just let Elijah's threat sit there, like she was _afraid_ of him. "I'm not afraid of you," she informed him, although she couldn't quite ascertain how close to the truth her little show of bravery landed. Maybe she wasn't terrified of the man, but she was absolutely _wary_ of him. Contrary to popular belief, she wasn't just some airhead. She survived a hell of a lot and was much smarter for it. "Let's not even talk about your brother. If you killed me, Grace would never forgive you." Caroline gave him a wan little smile. "If you care, that is."

Elijah most likely would have gleefully eviscerated her had commotion not stirred again upstairs. Klaus must have removed the soap from Gracie's mouth, because she wielded her sharp tongue against him with regrettable skill. At first, he hammered in his lesson about disrespect, but when Grace shouted, "I want my real daddy back!" Caroline recognized that her issues ran far deeper than lip service.

"Harsh," Kol quipped from the kitchen, and Finn tersely told him to shut it. Their argument spiraled from there, in which Grace threw something and yelled that she hated both her father and Klaus, wrenching Caroline's heart further and further out of her chest, when it reached a horrifying crescendo.

Klaus seemingly left the room, and Grace cried after him, "And I hate your mama and I hate my mama and - I don't want to talk about her, why did you make me talk about her?" Caroline slid her accusing gaze over to Elijah, ready to shred his holiness into strips, but his genuinely aghast expression caused the insult to lodge in her throat. Oh crap - he did care about her. He honestly _did_ care about her. All right, so she probably misjudged him a _little_. But only a little. Caroline was a very good judge of character, and this tiny blip in her record didn't count.

"I hate her!" Grace broke something else. "I hate her, I hate her, _I hate her_!" A slight lull followed, and then: "I hope she's dead!"

After that, she just sobbed, and Caroline thought she might cry along with her. "That's why you shouldn't push her," she whispered. "She's not a mystery to solve. She's a _child_."

Elijah rubbed his forehead and didn't respond.

Klaus stormed downstairs, and after a brief scuffle with Kol that ended with Klaus stealing the liquor bottle, he burst into the sitting room and sat next to Caroline, downing an impressive swig. "What?" he demanded when she slipped him a nasty glance. "I heard the two of you arguing. You might've been a bit more subtle about it."

"Weren't you busy shoving soap down Gracie's throat?" Caroline asked with a false sweetness, cutting Elijah off before he could presumably stitch together an explanation that favored him. Klaus scowled at her, swallowing another mouthful of the booze. "What're you doing down here? Your _daughter_ is crying upstairs."

"She's throwing a tantrum," he tried, but it rang hollow. He didn't believe it either.

. . . Only, here was the weird thing. She _felt_ that he didn't believe it; she didn't just _observe_ it. She felt it in her bones, humming through her veins. She felt his shame, his worry, his frustration - like it was her own.

Uh, well, this was new.

Could she get a refund, like, now?

He looked at her with a funny expression in place, and she wondered if he too was experiencing the bizarre phenomenon. She'd have to ask him - later, when she wasn't pissed off at him. So maybe never. "Grace is right. You're a prick."

A spike of dark, ugly anger jutted into her belly, and she could hardly stifle a squeak of surprise when she became cognizant of the fact that it wasn't _hers_. What the hell was happening? "Caroline . . ."

"She's in pain," Caroline insisted, bewildered at why she was the only one to not brush it under the rug and even more bewildered by her new influx of foreign emotions. "Can't you see - _hear_ \- how much pain she's in? Evidently, according to Finn, _Elijah_ here," the named Original brother sighed, "tricked her into revealing information that she was not ready to share. She. Is. Hurting."

Klaus suddenly appeared a little chagrined, and the suspicion that bubbled up inside of Caroline was entirely hers. "He attempted to draw it out of her because I asked him to," he said, absolutely fucking _flooring_ Caroline. "My efforts were in naught, and so we discussed . . . other tactics. I didn't think it would be _this_ morning, but I assume he saw an opportunity and took it. I didn't quite anticipate his methods either, but I also allowed him a fair amount of leeway, so . . ."

For the first time this morning, Caroline severely regretted staying the night. "Oh my _God_ , Klaus." She scooted away from him, and ignored the faint shadow of hurt that crossed his face.

"How dare you?" The three of them turned to see Finn standing in the doorway, horrified. "You conspired to traumatize her further? She _doesn't_ want to share, brothers. Leave it be! Leave _her_ be!"

"She has nightmares every bloody night!" Klaus roared, jumping to his feet and throwing the bottle across the room. Caroline flinched as it shattered into pieces and dribbled down the pristine wall. Elijah flinched too, but she suspected it was for the new stain that pooled into the carpet rather than much else. "Somebody _fucking_ hurt her, Finn!" Oddly enough, despite his all-around awfulness, that might've been the first time Caroline heard him use such profane language. It was kind of hot, actually - or would have been, in other circumstances. "Am I supposed to let her collapse into her own mind?"

Finn swallowed hard, and even Caroline, in spite of her more rational side, was beginning to understand his argument. Empathize with it, even. Wait, what? Empathize with _Klaus_? Talk about a coming apocalypse. It didn't help matters that she was experiencing his overwhelming anger like it was her own, like she wore its skin or it wore hers, peeling it off her muscles and donning it with all of the allure of a sparkling stolen cloak.

Something changed last night. Something big. And she didn't know whether or not she should be terrified.

"If you could just ask her -" Finn pleaded, wrenching her back to the present.

"We have asked her, brother," Elijah interrupted, with less heat than Klaus but no less conviction. "She will not divulge her trauma, and therefore it is eating her up from the inside out and will continue to do so unless we can break the cycle. And it is manifesting in less than ideal ways, if manufacturing and throwing a Molotov cocktail at Esther rather than _telling one of us_ of the woman's treachery is an implication. She patently refuses to tell adults much of anything." He slanted his eyes her way, then, and the underlying _Except Caroline_ was as obvious as it was vexing.

"What about therapy?" Caroline suggested a bit desperately, refusing to accept that she half-agreed with his logic.

"And how do we explain the supernatural aspects of her life, sweetheart?" Klaus snapped, although he was softer to her than he had been to Finn.

His indulgence rooted itself into her mind, and she instantly wanted to block it out. Was this _really_ how he felt about her, or should she chalk it up to an overactive imagination? But this wasn't some game of mermaids and pirates that she played with Bonnie and Elena when she was six, a fantastical hodgepodge of childish whims and curiosity and misconceptions, her beautiful, unwavering innocence nudging her toward the mermaids and shielding her from the grubby pirates. But, as she'd flap her invisible emerald tail and collect invisible adorable shells and twirl amongst invisible friendly fish, she'd spare a thought for the pirates hiding in their cove and wonder how they ended up like that. Bonnie and Elena never wondered the same way she did, never wondered how the villains got to be villains, never wondered what they were like before, since her stubborn babyish principles convinced her that no one was born evil.

Caroline still believed that, actually.

Still, she missed those times, when all of her most ridiculous and spectacular dreams were stretched out before her, lopsided and inelegant, and all she had to do was reach out and touch them, and they'd sleep golden and wonderful and just a bit crooked in her untarnished little hands.

When Caroline realized that Klaus was still talking, she left behind the memory of better days and focused on the now, no matter how unpleasant it continued to be. Her game of mermaids and pirates was a lie - a lovely little lie, but a lie nonetheless. This was real. This wasn't her imagination. This was _real_.

"- We could compel the therapist, of course, but no therapist is naturally equipped to deal with issues of her variety. Even compelled, how would the therapist answer upon the reveal that Gracie's biological father sacrificed his life to an evil witch because his only daughter would soon succumb to lycanthropy? I highly doubt any _human_ learned how to deal with that in some freshman _Intro to Psychology_ class."

Yes . . . this was real.

"I've been searching for more . . . supernatural psychologists," Elijah said after Klaus petered off into a brooding silence. "But I've encountered much slimmer pickings, Miss Forbes."

They _both_ put some research into it? All right, all right, so Elijah gave more than half a whit about Grace. She could admit when she was wrong. Well, not _that_ wrong. Like, half-wrong. Yeah, she could deal with that, because that still meant Elijah was in the wrong too, which she was not bending on.

Speaking of Grace - stupidly, momentarily, since her sobs had quieted and their conversation had deepened, they forgot about her. That was a mistake.

The sound of glass shattering caused them to all whip their heads toward the second floor. "It's probably a maid," Klaus grouched. "Even compelled, they're a clumsy lot. There they go, breaking vases worth more than their houses."

"Aren't you nice," Caroline scoffed, and she was about to tack on another snub when another shatter followed soon after.

Kol must have checked out the noise first, since to Caroline, he seemed unnaturally attracted to chaos, but his resounding shout had every single one of them racing up the staircase like a starving tiger was nipping at their heels. "What the fuck - _Bloody hell, Grace, stop it!_ NIK!"

The four of them reached Grace's bedroom at relatively the same time - Caroline's fear boosting her speed, but she couldn't help herself. When she saw Grace standing by the window, gallons of blood dripping down her front and streaming down her arms, staring back at them with hollow, dead eyes, she screamed.

 **A/N: Yeah . . . I ended on a cliffhanger. Heh. Sorrynotsorry. Luckily, I'm hauling ass on the next chapter, so it'll be up before the 2020 Presidential Election, I promise! Let me know what you thought about this one, I love you guys! :D**

 **Also, quick question: Obviously, my main perspective for this story is Grace, with some Klaus as of late, and now Caroline getting squeezed in. Would you guys ever like to read a new perspective, like Elijah, or Rebekah, or Kol, or Finn? Or even an O.C., like Aashiya or Rohan? Let me know!**


End file.
